From Iceland — Ready for the Airwaves Shaka Brah

Ready for the Airwaves Shaka Brah

Published November 2, 2023

Ready for the Airwaves Shaka Brah
Photo by
Art Bicnick

A helpful guide to concert etiquette

The pounding baseline echoes in your chest. You can catch glimpses of the stage over the shoulders of the guy in front of you. You want to hear the melody, but there’s screaming in your ear. You’d jump to the beat, but your feet are stuck to the beer-covered ground. Someone just threw up on you. This fucking sucks.

Do you love music but hate going to concerts because of how people act? Me too.

Concerts are meant to be places to come together and listen to our favourite musicians perform their little hearts out. But most of the time, you just end up fighting the urge to kill everyone around you. To quell this unifying murderous rage, I shall attempt to remind you of proper concert etiquette. For when the beats are pounding and rending your mortal mind apart, it can be hard to remember how to act.

I myself, am a seasoned attendee of both opera and orchestral music and, as such, consider myself among the crème de la crème of concertgoers. With Airwaves making such a splash, I’m sure lessons from my background in classical music are just what Reykjavík needs to lift itself out of the gutters.

Firstly, darling, rock, metal, blues, gnome-core, acid jazz, it really doesn’t matter – you must dress to impress not depress. Gentleman, suit and tie. Ladies, dress, and heels. Non-binary folks, you’ll sadly have to navigate your identity and figure out what “formal” means to you. Now this may seem a tad bit limiting or oppressive, but I assure you, there is nothing more punk than conforming to age-old arbitrary gender norms. Additionally, formal attire is quite practical. It absorbs high amounts of sweat, gives you the right to send the dry-cleaning bill to whoever spills beer on you and further makes you stand out like a royal thumb. You’ll be the best-dressed Nord at the Airwaves fest.

Secondly, dearie, you may be tempted to join a mosh pit. I too have not been able to resist the pits formed during Vivaldi’s concertos, but there are important things to keep in mind. Remember that not everyone consents to the scent. For God’s sake, take a fucking bath before you get in the middle of it. And also, a mosh pit is very different from a fight pit. We do not go to concerts to have illegal boxing matches; those are held behind the big Hagkaup on Tuesday nights. Also, if someone falls down, please please pick them up. Yes, I agree, the weak must die, but it’s extremely hard on the janitor the coming day to clean up all the remains.

Another problem, much to my dismay, is the trend on the Tiktoks and the Instagrams of either handing or throwing odd artefacts at singers. This barbaric tradition originated with the rotten tomato of the Dark Ages and seems to have grown to cheese wheels, bras and live animals. I can assure you that the clout you will garner by doing this is not worth the sheer anxiety and dread that you will fill the performers with. It’s probably not worth the absolute beating that the hunky Securitas guards will throw back at you.

Finally, with Airwaves upon you, you may not have time to restock on supplies. Carry water, for it will be precious when you’re screaming with the melody. Dress well, for the beat is hot and the air is cold. And don’t forget to have fun, for it might be the last thing you ever do.

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