Walking into a concert venue, you spot a friend, a date, or even a stranger who’s also there for the same band. You smile. You nod. But then-what do you actually say?
It’s not about finding the perfect line. It’s about matching the energy. Concerts aren’t just about the music. They’re about the shared moment right before it all starts. The buzz in the air, the way people shift their weight, the way someone clutches their ticket like it’s a lucky charm. What you say matters less than how you say it.
Keep It Simple, Keep It Real
You don’t need a script. Most people aren’t looking for poetry. They’re looking for connection. A quick, genuine line works better than a rehearsed joke.
- "You excited for this?"
- "First time seeing them live?"
- "I’ve been waiting for this show since last year."
- "The opening act is insane-did you hear their new single?"
These aren’t clever. They’re human. And they open the door. If the person responds with a grin or a nod, you’ve already done your job. If they’re quiet, that’s fine too. Sometimes silence before a show is part of the ritual.
Read the Room
Not everyone wants to chat. Some people come to concerts to zone out. They’re wearing noise-canceling headphones, staring at their phone, or just standing still like they’re meditating. Don’t force it. If someone looks closed off, a smile and a nod are enough.
On the flip side, if someone’s bouncing on their heels, singing along to the soundcheck, or yelling at their friend about the setlist-they’re ready to talk. That’s your cue. Ask about their favorite song. Mention a lyric that stuck with you. People love to share what they love.
One time at a Tame Impala show in Auckland, I asked a guy next to me, "Which album are you here for?" He lit up. Turned out he’d seen them five times before, and this was his first time with his daughter. We ended up talking for 20 minutes. The show hadn’t even started yet.
Avoid the Overused Lines
Some phrases sound good in movies. In real life? They fall flat.
- "This is going to be epic!" - Too vague. Everyone says it. It means nothing.
- "I hope they play [song]!" - Unless you know they’re a hardcore fan, this puts pressure on them to agree. What if they hate that song?
- "Are you here alone?" - Too personal. Don’t assume.
- "I’ve been waiting for this since I was a kid." - Unless you’re 60 and this band formed in the ‘80s, it sounds forced.
These lines feel like filler. They’re not bad. They’re just lazy. People can tell when you’re reciting a line instead of speaking from real interest.
Use the Music as a Bridge
The best conversations before a concert start with the music itself. Not the artist’s Instagram, not the merch, not the VIP seating. The songs.
Try this: "What’s the one song you can’t wait to hear?"
That question works because it’s personal, specific, and invites a story. Someone might say, ""Lose Yourself"-I used to play it before every exam." Or, ""The Less I Know The Better"-I danced to it at my wedding."
Or, if you’re unsure, mention a song you love and ask if they’ve heard it. "Have you listened to their new album? I think the bassline on track three is unreal." That’s not a question to answer-it’s an invitation to share.
Be Aware of the Space
Concert venues are crowded. You’re not in a coffee shop. You’re in a hallway with 500 other people trying to find their spot. Don’t block the flow. Don’t stand in the middle of the walkway while you talk. Move with the crowd. Keep it short. A 30-second exchange is better than a five-minute monologue.
Also, don’t assume everyone knows the same things. Maybe your friend has seen the band three times. Maybe the person next to you just bought their ticket last night. Don’t talk like you’re an expert. Stay curious.
What If You’re Nervous?
It’s okay to feel awkward. Most people do. The trick? Focus on listening more than speaking.
Ask a question. Then shut up. Let them talk. Nod. Smile. Say, "That’s wild," or, "I didn’t know that." People love to be heard. Especially before a show, when they’re feeling something big.
One time, I stood next to a woman at a Phoebe Bridgers show who didn’t say a word for ten minutes. I just smiled. Then, right before the lights went down, she turned to me and whispered, "This song saved my life." I didn’t say anything back. I just held her gaze. And when the first note hit, we both cried.
It’s Not About the Words
What you say matters, but it’s not the whole story. The real magic is in the silence, the shared glance, the way you both lean forward when the first drum hit drops. Sometimes the best thing you can say is nothing at all.
Before a concert, people aren’t looking for advice. They’re not looking for opinions. They’re looking for a moment of belonging. A quiet confirmation that they’re not alone in feeling this.
So don’t overthink it. Say something real. Then let the music take over.
What If You’re Going Alone?
If you’re going to a concert solo, you’re not weird. You’re normal. More people go alone than you think.
Here’s what works: Walk in with your head up. Don’t look like you’re waiting to be rescued. If someone makes eye contact, smile. If they say something, respond. If they don’t? That’s fine too.
Bring a notebook. Write down the first song you hear. Jot down a lyric that hits you. Later, you’ll remember the moment-not the conversation.
And if someone does talk to you? You’ve already won. You showed up. That’s the hardest part.
What About Dates?
If you’re going with someone you’re dating, don’t turn it into a performance. Don’t try to impress them with your knowledge of the band’s discography. Don’t quiz them on setlists.
Just be present. Hold their hand when the crowd surges. Laugh when they sing off-key. Whisper, "This part always gets me," when the chorus hits.
The best pre-concert moment with a date isn’t the conversation. It’s the silence that comes right before the lights go down-and the way you both breathe at the same time.
Pamela Watson
OMG YES I JUST ASKED SOMEONE AT THE METAL SHOW LAST WEEK "YOU EXCITED FOR THIS?" AND THEY STARTED CRYING LOL 😭
michael T
Bro, I once yelled "WHICH ALBUM ARE YOU HERE FOR?" at a guy in line for Tool and he launched into a 20-minute monologue about how *Lateralus* got him through his divorce, his mom’s cancer, and his cat’s suicide. I didn’t ask for all that. But now I’m emotionally drained and still haven’t gotten my beer. 🤡
Christina Kooiman
Actually, the article says "You don’t need a script" but then lists six scripted lines as examples-so it’s contradictory. Also, "insane-did" is missing a space after the hyphen. And "Lose Yourself" is by Eminem, not Tame Impala. That’s a factual error. And "The Less I Know The Better" is by Tame Impala, yes, but the article misspells "Tame" as "Tame"-wait, no, it’s correct. But still. The grammar is sloppy. This isn’t journalism. It’s a blog post with emotional manipulation disguised as wisdom. I’m disappointed.
Stephanie Serblowski
Okay but like-have we considered that maybe the *real* magic isn’t the conversation but the fact that we’re all just… weirdos who show up to scream at strangers in a room with lasers? 🌈✨ Like, we’re not looking for connection. We’re looking for a temporary tribe. And honestly? That’s beautiful. Also, I bought a glow stick just to wave it during the chorus. No regrets. #ConcertSoul
Renea Maxima
What if the entire premise is wrong? What if we’re not supposed to speak at all? What if the concert is a ritual of silence, and our attempts to "connect" are just capitalist noise pollution? The band doesn’t want you to talk. The venue doesn’t want you to talk. The universe doesn’t want you to talk. You’re interrupting the cosmic frequency. 🌀
Jeremy Chick
Bro, I just walk in, bump into someone, say "damn, this crowd is wild," and keep moving. No questions. No stories. No vibes. Just vibes. And if they say something back? Cool. If not? I’m already at the merch line. This whole thing is overthought. You’re not at a therapy session. You’re at a concert. Let the bass do the talking.
Sagar Malik
Let me tell you something, my fellow sonic pilgrims-this entire piece is a neoliberal distraction. The real truth? The concert is a controlled emotional release mechanism designed by corporate media conglomerates to pacify the proletariat. The "shared moment"? A manufactured illusion. The "music as a bridge"? A Trojan horse for brand loyalty. And the woman who whispered "this song saved my life"? She’s probably a marketing bot trained on indie folk trauma narratives. 🤖
Seraphina Nero
I love how this post says "don’t assume" but then assumes everyone knows what Tame Impala is. What if someone’s never heard of them? What if they’re just there for the merch? I went to a show once and just stood there smiling at everyone. No words. No pressure. Just… being there. And someone smiled back. That’s enough.
Megan Ellaby
okay so i was at a billie eilish concert last year and i was all nervous cause i was alone and then this girl next to me turned and said "do you think she’ll play ocean eyes?" and i was like "i hope so!!" and we ended up singing it together before the lights went out. it was so sweet. i still think about it. also i spelled "eilish" wrong in my notes but i don’t care. 🥺
Rahul U.
Excellent insights. I appreciate the emphasis on presence over performance. At a Radiohead show in Delhi, I stood quietly next to a man in a faded Pink Floyd t-shirt. We exchanged no words. But when "Paranoid Android" began, he closed his eyes and nodded. I did the same. That nod meant more than any conversation ever could. 🙏
E Jones
Let me tell you something they don’t want you to know-these "simple lines"? They’re planted by the same people who control the vaccines, the weather, and the price of concert tickets. The phrase "you excited for this?" is a neural trigger. It’s designed to lower your inhibitions so you’ll buy the $80 hoodie. The woman who whispered "this song saved my life"? She’s a shill. Paid by Live Nation. The entire article is a psyop. The real truth? The music is a distraction. The real concert is the line outside. The real band? The government. Wake up.
Barbara & Greg
While the sentiment behind this piece is well-intentioned, it fundamentally misunderstands the nature of human interaction in communal spaces. To suggest that "silence before a show is part of the ritual" is to romanticize emotional detachment. True connection requires intention, not passive acknowledgment. Furthermore, the casual tone undermines the gravity of shared emotional experiences. This is not a coffee shop. It is a sacred space of collective catharsis-and it deserves more than a smile and a nod.
selma souza
"Insane-did"? No comma. "Tame Impala" misspelled? No. But "Lose Yourself"? That’s Eminem. And you put it in a Tame Impala section. That’s not a typo. That’s ignorance. And you call it "human"? No. It’s careless. And you tell people to "be aware of the space" but you didn’t proofread your own. Pathetic.
Frank Piccolo
Look, I’m not here to make friends. I’m here to scream until my throat bleeds. You want to talk? Go to a book club. I came for the mosh pit. The only thing I say before a show is "move"-and I mean it. If you’re in my way, you’re not part of the ritual. You’re part of the problem. This whole "shared moment" crap? That’s for people who don’t know how to headbang.