The Tyranny of 21+ Shows

A pet peeve of mine that I've been meaning to write about for awhile is the concept of 21+ shows. As a youngin', I remember repeated disappointment at any good gig that would be limited to persons of the legal drinking age. Modest Mouse did a rare gig in Boise when I still lived in Idaho, but I couldn't go because I couldn't drink. Nevermind that I didn't drink or have any interest in doing so. One of my favorite bands (one I have yet to see live) was playing in the Gem State for the first time since 1997 and I couldn't go because of alcohol restrictions. I also caught many good gigs at the Crowbar last year that I couldn't have seen if the Cell Block had hosted them, evidenced by their 21+ Eddie Money show.

Many of my friends told me that I'd sing a different tune once I turned 21 myself. "No way," I told them, holding onto my youthful conviction. And though our opinions often change with increased age and perspective, the folly of 21+ shows is still something that gets me sore.

Now, I'm not talking about every local bar band or cover act with a weekly gig. While I'm still upset about missing the Mouse, I think any 17 year old who's just dying to see a Velveeta gig has his priorities messed up.

But what's the point of booking a big act and then keeping half of their fan base out? Ticket prices should more than compensate for their inability to drink. And, on a more general level, excluding non-drinkers from a show shifts the emphasis from music to alcohol. The Eddie Money show seemed less like a concert and more like a beeline from the 25 cent drafts and back to the stage when a hit came up. Half the crowd stood around with their backs turned to the band.

I know there's another option. One of the greatest nights of my life was when I saw Eyes Adrift, a short-lived supergroup made up of Curt Kirkwood from the Meat Puppets, Bud Gaugh from Sublime and Krist Novaselic from Nirvana. Nirvana was the band that got me into rock music and were still my favorite band at that time.

I stood three feet away from Krist in the front row, swooning the entire show. Afterwards, I got to meet him and tell him how much his music had meant to me, and it's probably the only time I've been truly awestruck meeting a musician.

Why is this relevant? It was a gig in a bar in Boise. I was only 18. But they just slapped some Xs on my hands and kept me away from the bar. And it bothers me to think that, if the venue had been more concerned with getting the money out of a few beers instead of from my ticket, I never would have had that experience. And even though I may now be 21, I don't want anyone else to lose opportunities because of age.