I’ve only been to two real concerts in my life. The first, my dad took me to see Janet Jackson’s velvet rope tour when she was strapping men to furniture and grinding on them at an age (11!!) when I probably shouldn’t have seen folks getting strapped to furniture. (Which, now that I think about it, Explains Some Things About Me).
The other concert I went to was this year. Went to the “bisexual women with straight male partners” symposium (of which i am a card carrying member) otherwise known as a Hozier concert with my best friend in creation. And it was special for us because we both fell in love with our Woke Fairy King at the same time and used a lot of his work in our fanfictions. Cried most of the way through, screamed myself hoarse, loved every minute of it.