Julie S.
Yelp
I've spent more time than most Okies at the Paramount, thanks to my many years at SXSW. But my time at this storied venue has been for premieres and screenings. Recently, that all changed when I got to see the Punch Brothers with Bela Fleck for their quick tour, My Bluegrass Heart. It was so powerful to see such talented performers at such an amazing venue.
After so much time spent seeing live music in Austin in my 20s at 30s, (The Wombats on the rooftop at Maggie Mae's, Okkervil River at a private party, The Bravery at Buffalo Billiards, Old 97s at La Zona Rosa, Silversun Pickups with Cage the Elephant, Local Natives at Emo's, Black Keys at Emo's, and the BEASTIE BOYS in a surprise show at Stubbs, I could go on and on.. I know, my life is a movie) it is a little shocking I had never seen a live show at the Paramount. Worth the wait, to be sure.
It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. It was so acoustically perfect, you could hear the light tap of the performers shoes as they kept the beat. It was so friendly (even though I didn't know a soul), I felt like I was part of a community. They didn't know I was a tourist (and a Sooner at that!). I was just into the same band as them, and that was all that mattered. My outfit, haircut, makeup or cool factor didn't seem to be of concern.
Maybe the crowd is the reason I love this venue so much. It was like high church. If aliens had landed here, and seen this audience, they would have thought these musicians were our actual gods. The reverence, the hushed awe - it was like people were afraid to breathe at the wrong time.
OKC will never be a live music town like Austin, mostly because our audiences will never be as truly rapt and gripped as the audiences here. We're all still playing a role, performatively into the show, but mostly into ourselves. We'll keep talking loudly over the opener, girls in big dumb hats cackling over the instrumental, coming to the show more for the Instagram post than the insanely talented musician baring her beautiful soul before the crowd. Boys who desperately miss the frat house, who immediately turn into a college kid when you hand them a domestic beer in a plastic cup. I've seen Dawes and Death Cab, Modest Mouse and Jason Isbell, Ra Ra Riot and so, so many more in my hometown, and been absolutely mortified to be in the same crowd as these loudmouth show boats and glamourous gas bags.
So maybe, live music for me, is just meant to be here, on Congress Ave. Before, a cocktail at Higher Ground. After, a quiet meal at Jeffrey's, or street meat while people watching, or room service at my hotel. Maybe I've always known I'd be better off seeing my favorite bands well south of the red river.
Maybe, live music in my 40s and beyond is just this much nicer, more pleasant, more connected to the performance.