Saudades

I spent the weekend at the second annual Cruel World festival, a music festival focused on darker alternative 80s stuff and things adjacent, which is of course right up my alley. It was a wild ride - in the middle of Iggy Pop’s set Saturday night, the festival was abruptly shut down due to lightning in the nearby hills. So we only got a handful of songs from him and none from Siouxsie who was the headliner after. We were all asked to evacuate immediately, which many of the drunker patrons did not take kindly to. It never felt out of control or dangerous - honestly, the conspiracy theories and rage flying on the FB group felt far more unsafe (people really are awful, aren’t they?). But then we woke up the next morning to the news that Gary Numan, Iggy, and Siouxsie would return Sunday night to complete the show and all Saturday tickets would be honored. So we secured a babysitter, canceled all plans and headed back over. 

Like many of my “legends” concerts over the last couple of years, it was magical. Why is that, exactly? Is it because of being in a giant crowd of like-minded people all experiencing good vibes? Is it the return to youth these musicians bring us? Is it seeing them old and (sometimes) not quite up to par but still up there doing it, as are we in our every day lives, that fills us with so much bittersweet joy? 

I think it’s all of these things, but for me especially it’s about nurturing that unloved teenaged girl still inside of me, giving her a hug and saying, “I love you, it’s going to be ok, and I see your pain and it matters”. It’s really true that the person we are as young teenagers is who we are, at our core, for the rest of our lives. That young person never entirely goes away. This dark stuff I loved so much at that age has never really left me - even in my swing dancing life I still love anything in a minor key. Some of us are just like that. 

I’m sorry I never got into Siouxsie when I was young. I always admired her and liked her music, but never did a deep dive for some reason. I chalk it up to internalized misogyny - the belief that anything feminine must be “uncool” - which is an impulse I still fight every day. She’s a goddamn queen. And this may be my only chance to ever see her. 

I’m feeling all sad and fucked up and emotional now that the festival is over. Thankfully I have The Cure on Thursday which is just what I need right now, and Love and Rockets at a more intimate show in a few months. Since covid I feel a mad rush to see all these old guys and gals while I still can. I know I’m not alone in this.

In the meantime, preparations are underway for a small 5th grade culmination for the kids that are leaving school this year, including kids like mine who are not. I’ve been asked to send some photos and videos of Bobby’s history at school, and looking through them has me in all the saudades. Time goes so fast; it’s so relentless. I’m three weeks away from having a 4th grader and a 6th grader. Yesterday I was a 6th grader obsessing on the Beatles, listening to my 45 of “Yes it Is” over and over on my little turntable. Seriously, where did the time go?