What do you get when you spend your 52nd birthday with approximately 12,000 people and some of your favourite 90s rock bands at your second home Rogers Place Arena? (Beside a sore throat and aching stiff body hangover the next day because you are now officially old, and probably some shattered ear drums, because, yah, they don’t absorb loud like they used too.)

The fountain of youth, that’s what! Standing, bouncing, dancing, singing at the top of my lungs like a 20 year old. Yes, I know I just said every bone in my body hurt afterwards because I am old, but in those moments, those 3 hours of live music, you lose yourself. You are not 52, or 12, or 82. You are music.

I joke, but science apparently says attending live music gigs for at least 20 minutes every two weeks can extend your life by nine years. Doing so, watching live music, positively impacts one’s well-being, feelings of self-worth, happiness, connection to others, and provides mental stimulation, all which increase life expectancy.

While I couldn’t find a peer-reviewed article of this study – just reference to the above linked article, after the more than 100 concerts I have attended in my life, I can verify these observations in my own experience (I mean – not the 9 years part… but the joy and connection).

There is nothing like seeing your favourite bands and musicians play live. Nothing.

It’s why I still write this blog 8 years later, and why I go to multiple shows or see an artist every single time they come to my town. Or travel to see them live.

The elation, good will, and unadulterated joy that courses through my veins leading up to, during, and after a concert is hard to deny, and so easy to replicate. This is my happy place.

The recent Tea Party / Finger Eleven / Headstones concert at Rogers Place in Edmonton is pure example of this infusion of positive energy and well-being through live music.

Although they went on stage last, I’m gonna talk about The Tea Party first. Because those are my boys! My Canadian rockers and 99% of the reason we went to this show.

I have loved this band since the 90s. They are the band that opened this blog – my very first post back in 2017 was about seeing The Tea Party at the River Cree Casino.

I’ve seen and blogged about them 4 more times since then (five, including this one) – once more at the River Cree Casino, twice at the Midway Music Hall; and Jeff Martin solo once – at the Northern Jubilee Auditorium.

I’ve seen them at the Calgary Stampede back in the 90s and Jeff M at a tiny tiny little pub in Ireland in the 2000s.

I can not tell you (well I guess I am – that’s what this blog does, lol) how excited I was to finally hear them live in a full sized arena.

Don’t get me wrong – I love the intimacy and eye sight range of small venues, but to hear these big sounds, these intricate, and multi-faceted, these deep, soul catching Tea Party soundscapes through the larger than life sound system and spaciousness of Rogers Place…

Well, I almost, almost, maybe just a small bit of me regrets the 6th row on the floor seats instead of sitting furthest back to truly hear and experience the bigness of their music in that setting.

Almost.

But also no.

Because 6th row and you get the energy of the crowd – that positive, crowd-bonding, mental stimulation and mind-tingling well-being of, well, being up close and centre to it all that that aforementioned study talks about.

I wonder if the increase in self-worth the study says occurs from going to concerts relates to the ability of music to transport us to places we might otherwise not go (yet) – like to Turkey through the worldliness of The Bazaar. Or whether it is achieved in watching and absorbing the passion of those on stage – in their element, of watching Jeff Burrows breaking it out in Temptation.

A sort of osmosis of excellence and divine purpose in the world. I am, because I am music.

(Though you wouldn’t think that if you heard me sing… Jeff Martin and a phone book, I am not!)

Or maybe it is the shared experience of emotion and empathy, of losing yourself to the emotions of Save Me. (Actually – I wonder if concert-goers become more empathic when at shows, or are already empathic and that’s why we connect to live music? I might have to look this up…)

And while, I admit, I am less familiar with Finger Eleven and the Headstones (though more familiar than I thought), both conducted the intensity of connectedness through their sets as well.

Hugh Dillon of the Headstones, in particular, connected with the crowd himself, jumping off the stage multiple times to wander through the audience all the way to the back and up in the lower bowl while singing, stopping for hugs and high fives and middle fingers (apparently the F-bomb is a big Headstones thing – I’m new to this live tradition).

I fully appreciate musicians who go out of their way to engage the crowd, break the fifth wall, so to speak, and create that sense of unity and oneness.

Fandoms exist not just because of the shared interest for the artist or art, but because of the community that comes with it. The sense of belonging, of finding your people.

Though this was my first Headstones concert, it was immediately evident, this is community. With shared customs, symbols (the finger), and language (oh so many f-bombs!). I could write a whole blog, or PhD, on the community of fans and I have no doubt there is longevity benefits to finding and experiencing those connections.

Last but not least, and actually first, were Finger Eleven. There is something so joyous in their music. The lyrics are not puppies and flowers, there was gruffness and edge to their set.

But still – what is it about the beat of Paralyser that evokes positive energy? Maybe its Rick Jackett, the wild guitarist who swings his guitar around and around like the most fearless dance partner ever. He was such a joy and enigma to watch.

Maybe its the crowd singing One Thing at the top of our lungs – again that community of spirit. Or maybe it was that all three bands, if I’m not mistaken, sang homage to or told stories about the beloved ultimate Canadian Band, The Tragically Hip.

All I can say is music, and live music in particular, has a power to it – it can turn your tide from that hard day at work or hard day at life to this joyful, crowd-bond, lost in the beauty of the music and head banging, head bopping, dance party. A 52nd birthday party with a few thousand strangers who are music family and suddenly those bones don’t hurt and it’s a beautiful day and nine years are added to your balance.

This is my happy.