Standing in line to see the show tonight....

Last week, I was reunited with my first love.

The Red Hot Chili Peppers.

30 years ago, this unrequited love was born listening to Blood Sugar Sex Magic and One Hot Minute on my neighbours stereo. As a teenager I covered my bedroom with black and white posters of them wearing nothing but socks. I bought every CD. I over analysed every lyric. And for my 18th birthday, a dear friend gifted me tickets to their By the Way tour- my first gig and the beginning of my life long obsession with live music.

Walking into the stadium with 60, 000(ish) fans, I was giddy with anticipation. I'd seen them a few times over the years, but not for a good decade. I had butterflies as soon as Flea, Chad and John burst onto the stage. When Anthony arrived… lightning bolt on the crotch of his shorts and all… I may have let out an involuntary squeal.?

As I get older, live music hits different. I’m more in awe of the musicians and their talent. To me, Anthony, Flea, Chad and John Frusciante are music royalty (and I will never understand how Anthony trills his tongue in Give it Away).?

Seeing music like the Chili’s live is also bloody nostalgic, evoking memories that span decades.?

Live music conveys feelings that are often hard to define and open to interpretation. During the night I found myself near tears listening to Hard to Concentrate (a wedding proposal Anthony wrote for Flea and his now wife) and Soul to Squeeze / Under the Bridge (both presumably about the bands’ battles with addiction).?

Live music takes us out of our heads, off our screens and into the moment. Mindfulness is something we so desperately strive for with our meditation apps and workplace wellness programs. And last week, thanks to live music, I forgot about my to-do’s and the logistics of getting home in favour of simply existing with the tens of thousands of others who chose to be in that moment too.

And that’s the most magical thing about it. Live music connects us. It bridges generations and cultures. For those 100 minutes 60,000(ish) strangers came together under the open roof of Marvel Stadium in celebration of something we had in common. And after the gig, thousands of people who didn’t want that moment to end, gathered on the Southern Cross steps to watch, dance and singalong with the infamous Darth Vader busker as he busted out Under the Bridge.

In this age of pandemic fatigue and social media overexposure, division seems to define us. But in my humble and very under researched opinion, we are all far more connected than we realise. And it’s fleeting shared experiences, like the one I had last week, that give us a glimpse of who we are when we focus on what unites (not divides) us.