Stars And Stripes: How Do US Gigs Compare To The UK?

I was giddy this January when I stepped off the plane at Heathrow, tickets in hand to see some bands that I love who rarely come to the US I spent spring in London this year, and was spoiled by its amazing music scene. There was always an awesome gig to go to! Everyone knew about Crystal Castles! 7” singles were available in stores, not just on Ebay for five times their actual price! London felt like a musical wonderland, particularly in its abundance of great gigs.

Don’t get me wrong; there are lots of things I love about America. We have Coachella and SXSW (and lower sales tax and better Mexican food). But our live music scene differs significantly from Britain’s, particularly in the bounty that London’s high density of gigs offers.

A major hindrance for American concert junkies like me is the sheer size of our country, which prevents the kind of centralized, dedicated gigging that London (and most of the UK) offers. I live on the East Coast about two hours south of New York, an area dotted with urban, musically inclined enclaves. But my Last.fm events list often yields only a few results for each day, and driving two hours or more to a gig is a regular part of life. While a friend of mine in England has to choose which Muse gig he wants to attend near his hometown, I find myself just hoping they’ll add a date somewhere within a two hundred mile radius. And it would be many times worse if I lived in the vast Midwest. Distance also makes it harder for up and coming bands to promote their music by touring; it’s one thing to drive from London to Liverpool on your own in a shoddy van, another to trek from New York to Austin without a label backing you. The constraints of space make fans of local scenes in America more devoted, but also prevent a lot of small bands from breaking out nationwide rather than in just a city or two.

I’m not saying that I haven’t seen amazing gigs here. In fact, the US is a great place to see international artists who haven’t quite broken the American market. One of my favourite gigs this year was a fabulous Wombats show in the tiny, sweaty basement of First Unitarian Church, arguably Philadelphia’s most unusual venue. And I have to give credit to East Coast cities, especially Baltimore, where the local music scene is expanding exponentially. But America also favours gigs in the giant, nondescript arenas that populate the country. I’ll desperately miss bigger shows in London’s unique venues, particularly Camden’s theater-style Koko and the vast, glass-ceilinged Olympia.

But the venue doesn’t always make the gig, and there’s another fundamental rift between the scenes in England and America.

English fans are intense. When they go to gigs, it’s because they either adore the band, or love music enough to see anyone with a guitar. At many shows, a large number of people know the words to every song, even those that have only been heard as YouTube leaks. A Maccabees show at Matter this February was a cathartically violent experience. The crowd was pressed so tightly, desperate to get closer to the band, that my feet didn’t touch the ground for most of the set. It was fantastic; the collective excitement about the music was stunning. I had a different but equally terrific experience at Camden Crawl, when The Whip won over a diverse crowd that knew relatively little of their music with a fantastic live performance. England’s desire to discover new music sets it apart; Americans tend to be surly toward unknowns, especially openers, but crowds in the UK are really listening.

American fans, though less devoted, seem to have more fun. Gigs sometimes have a casual, party atmosphere that makes them more a social occasion than a strictly musical experience. I took a friend who knows very little about music to a Rakes gig in London and he noted that “nobody was dancing”. This wasn’t particularly true, but they weren’t dancing with the abandon you see at American shows. American fans have a great time at concerts, and they love a sing along. I was surprised by the anticipation for the “do-do-do” refrain of ‘Chelsea Dagger’ at a Fratellis show in Philly this summer. But fans tend to be more casual and less generally interested in music. They’re less likely to know every word to every song, and they’re unsatisfied if bands don’t play hit singles. At the same Fratellis gig, the crowd wouldn’t shut up about ‘Chelsea Dagger’ until it was finally played, and they glared at the openers like they were watching puppies get kicked. They enjoyed the music, but only the music they already knew.

If I had to chose the fundamental difference between gigs in America and Britain it would be this: there’s much more devotion to the culture of live music in the UK. The proliferation of gigs, the enthusiasm for live music, and the fervour of fans make the concert atmosphere electric. Sure, you might end up with a few (dozen) bruises when a rabid Maccabees fan shoves you into the amp, but it’s worth it.