As the land known to most as the Gomorrah to San Francisco’s Sodom, Los Angeles regularly attracts the biggest names in music to its hallowed music halls and venues, presumably because of its reputation as a big market for music and a city of excess and immorality. Most expect Los Angeles audiences to be absolutely ruthless, completely devoid of any manners, and completely uninhibited (from a bit of help from the chemical lubricant of their choice). The overrule of common decency would seem to prevail during any concerts held in this apparent city of sin. However, I’ve found this perception of L.A. crowds to be not only inaccurate but completely contradictory to the truth of the matter. For the most part, audiences at Los Angeles shows are relatively tame and pretty lame.

People applaud when they’re supposed to. There’s rarely any room for spontaneity. The only time their legs move is when they’re shuffling off to the restroom. Hands remain concealed in pockets when they ought to be in the air. While I believe that audiences should be civil and respectful to a certain extent, Los Angeles crowds regularly transgress that line into the painfully stiff and reserved, as though the music Gestapo are on hand to punish any sort of outward expression of passion. Believe me, I hate having beer spilled on me or being knocked to the ground by a Neanderthal mosher as much as the next person, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that we should constantly be standing still with our arms to our sides when good music is meant to inspire movement.

Perhaps the astronomical price tags attached to liquor sold at the venues are related to the great inhibitions of the attendees. Maybe the majority of audiences consist of people that won tickets from Clear Channel and have no idea what the performer is about. Maybe they’re all attending their first concert ever and are uncertain about what exactly one does during the show. Maybe all the industry types in the crowd are making sure that they’re following hipster protocol. Whatever the reason, it’s about time that Los Angeles begins to live up to its reputation.

- Brother Amur