My favourite band
Die Lieblingsband meiner Lieblingsband
[December 2022]
For my birthday I treated myself to a trip to see my favourite band for a third time.
And for a third time was I compelled to write about them.
Kraftklub, a five-piece German pop-rock band made up of skinny white dudes who grew up in the German Democratic Republic.
But this is not a story of why I love them, I covered that in my previous two pieces.
My first concert of theirs was in 2016. Fresh after a break-up I had a spare ticket and took my best friend with me instead of my ex. The concert left such an impression on me, I proceeded to memorize their setlist and frantically journaled about what happened and how I felt during every single song in sequence once I got home.
The second time was this year in May, a short set in Berlin as part of a mini-festival, after they had gone on a 5-year hiatus. That was the time I finally decided that yes, I do have favourite band, and yes it is them, with simply one of the most fun live performances money can buy a ticket for.
But as I said, this isn't a story about them, exactly. Neither is it a story about how, this third time, I snuck to the front of the seating area and secured myself a spot with unmatched views and plenty of room to dance, nor a story about how I started crying during arguably the least emotional song in their discography (it’s called Riot, and the chorus consists simply of the lead singer shouting Riot repeatedly).
No, this is a story of how I came to a more profound understanding of the reason why I attend gigs alone.
If you picture a pyramid of human needs and desires, I picture it like this:
At the bottom you have the basics, food, shelter, safety. (Live music… Just kidding.)
Somewhere in the middle you have things that you want but that aren’t essential for the most rudimentary survival, such as companionship, pleasure, wealth.
And the higher you move the more abstract these things become, like ambitions, creative stimulation and expression, connection, fulfillment, and so on.
I think there is one particular thing that sits atop that pyramid, as something every one of us craves, something everybody strives for in some capacity, whether consciously or not, but something that I don’t think very many of us will ever obtain, at least not as fully as we hope for.
Very simply: to be understood.
How amazing the sensation of being understood, of somebody truly listening and comprehending your thoughts and feelings. Especially when you struggle to put them into words, but there just seems to exist an intuitive appreciation between you.
And surely, even more sharply etched in our minds is the sensation of someone failing to understand us. How much it can hurt, feel like a disappointment or rejection if somebody really cannot grasp you, what you mean, or what you go through, and cannot share your happiness or pain.
But sadly, that’s just a fact of life.
Far too often do we assume that people perceive the world through the same set of sensory organs and interpret their input identically.
So many conflicts and problems might be avoided if we just accepted that you and I, we will never know what its like in each others’ heads. The paths we traveled are infinitely divergent, and thus the opinions we hold and decisions we take are shaped by endlessly differing factors that will lead us to agree, disagree, or agree to disagree, but never to think and feel exactly the same.
Of course, you can try your best to explain yourself to me, and I can do my best to listen, and with time we will understand each other better. But that will never be enough to completely bridge the cognitive divide between us. It is impossible that somebody will ever understand you wholly. And that’s okay, because that also means you and your experiences are wholly unique.
So, we must learn to appreciate moments we are understood, and not take to heart too harshly the moments we are not.
But guess what. There is one single person who will understand you perfectly, if you let them.
And that is you, of course.
Sounds obvious, but it certainly is not.
We aren’t born with an inherent understanding of ourselves. In fact, it often feels like it is actively discouraged to do the work of getting to know oneself better, so that, tragically, we end up incredibly out of touch with ourselves and somehow profoundly lonely.
So, there I am, alone, dancing, jumping, and screaming along to every single Kraftklub song like my life depended on it, until I finally clutch my face and cry.
I never want it to end.
And in that moment, I understand that nobody will ever understand.
There may be others there who have an equally emotional connection to this music, and I may come home and explain my experience. But those words will never be enough to convey the ecstatic joy and deep sentiments I am feeling right now.
But instead of fretting about it I just keep on dancing, jumping, and screaming as I sink deeper into the moment with all its context and meaning that it holds for me.
I realize this is why I may go alone, even to those events that mean the most to me. Of course, having company is fun, and yes, I routinely get bored on my own waiting for the show to start. But this band, and plenty of others, do not mean nearly as much to the people that mean something to me and I would never expect any of them to make the trip to a random German town and pay for a ticket.
Why would I let that stop me?
Moments shared are beautiful, undoubtedly. However, sharing them with the wrong people may also be destructive to their beauty.
So, what if, instead. I share them with myself? What if I stop chasing the unachievable goal of hoping people understand my every facet and instead find peace and acceptance right here with me?
And find beauty in the fact that I do understand. And that is enough.
