show a little faith, there's magic in the night

my limited history of arena rock

I am now at an age where I have lived long enough to have an evolving relationship with memory. Years ago I could tell anyone who asked, with absolute certainty, if I had seen a certain artist in concert and how many times. Younger, cockier me would have been insistent that this would always be the case. She’d be mortified to spy on middle-aged me, singing along to “Born To Run” while making pancakes on a Saturday morning, musing out loud about how it would be cool to see Springsteen live some day.

Because, for pete’s sake, I HAVE seen Springsteen live. To my ancient brain’s credit, it only took me a few more songs to remember that. In the early nineties, my uncle, a life-long Springsteen devotee, left his home in the Ottawa suburbs to come to our home in the Toronto suburbs so he could go see Bruce at what was then called The Skydome. My younger cousin was supposed to accompany his dad to the show, carrying on the family tradition of Springsteen worship. But as concert time drew closer it became clear to everyone that bringing an 8 year old child to an epic stadium rock show was probably not a great idea, so seventeen year old me got subbed in.

I don’t remember a lot from the show, but my teenage ticket scrapbook confirms that it took place in November of 1992, and the internet tells me that the set list was 28 songs long. I do remember that the show was four hours, which was impressive, but probably a bit too much Springsteen for me at the time, given that I was not exactly amped for Bruce in general. Even now looking at the setlist, I can guess that I was probably too tired to really enjoy the songs that have come to be my favourites, since “Hungry Heart”, “Born to Run”, and “Thunder Road” were all right at the end of the night.

The only other thing that I remember about the experience is that I was very selective about which people I told about it, worried that my friends- a gaggle of delightful weirdos who favoured The Smiths and The Replacements- would likely make fun of me. I think this might have been my first stadium show, but of course I can’t confirm that. (My advice for younger people? Write everything down if you want to remember it into middle-age.)

I have been to very few Big Concerts for someone who has spent most of her life obsessed with music. Growing up near Toronto, medium sized concerts were plentiful. I saw so many bands play the Ontario Place Forum (R.I.P.) or Massey Hall. But other than that Springsteen show and a U2 concert that I got a free ticket for at the CNE, I didn’t attend anything in arenas. After seeing local bands at the Rivoli or the Ultrasound (sorry to the bouncers I fooled into thinking I was nineteen, I swear I didn’t drink, I just wanted to see music) seeing a big band from a cavernous stadium seemed no more exciting than watching a concert on TV. I was lucky that my taste leaned towards smaller acts so big shows weren’t often on my radar.

School-age Brigid and 20-something me just before catching a bus to go see Avril Lavigne.

Since moving to Ottawa in 1999 I’ve been to precisely two stadium shows. In the early 2000s I was the designated adult accompanying two kids who I knew from my work at an after school program to see Avril Lavigne. It was Avril’s first big tour and every kid I knew loved her songs. When I was doing a work placement in a preschool program I learned how to play “Complicated” on my acoustic guitar and I would play it during circle time, flanked with other kid-friendly rock songs I’d taught myself (mostly Cub) and a handful of Raffi hits. It was cool watching these kids have their first concert experience in this mega stadium, singing all the songs up in the cheap seats and fighting to stay awake as the night wore on.

Years later, after having kids of my own, I attended my older son’s preschool graduation and then literally ran away the moment it ended so I could detach the carseats from our car and race off to pick up three friends and drive us all out to that same stadium to see the second last show that the Tragically Hip ever played. My friend Margot had miraculously scored us two tickets and my friend Martha and her husband Jay bought tickets online, unsure until the moment they were scanned by arena staff if they were legit. They were. We all had a beautiful night, though I think I cried through about 87% of it. And I was so unused to stadiums in general, I embarrassingly declared “This is like the Grand Canyon!” when we first walked in.

Me, Margot, and Martha outside the Tragically Hip show, before the crying.

This summer I will, barring all possible concert-cancelling catastrophes, be taking my oldest kid to his first Big Concert. Katy Perry has blessed our mid-sized Canadian city with a tour stop and we have the best seats we could get for an amount of dollars that did not make me need to lie down on the floor and contemplate my existence under late-stage capitalism. I’ll be back in that same stadium getting the best of both worlds as I witness the joy of the Big Concert through my son’s eyes AND I get to sing along and enjoy an artist that I’ve come to love. No crying this time, hopefully. And I’m not ashamed to tell my friends.

March 2025 - How to Help

If you want to help people in the United States access abortion resources, have a look at the National Network of Abortion Funds. Abortion funds are grassroots organizations that directly help people seeking abortion access. I’m on the mailing lists for a few different funds and they’ll occasionally send emails saying “we need to fund x-number-of abortions” and telling you a bit about what people are seeking. There are links for donations and you can give as much or as little as you want.

March 2025 Songs

My friend Todd Taylor (editor of Razorcake) once told me “I only like Springsteen songs when punks cover them.” I think this is because we were in a basement in New Brunswick NJ watching Mikey Erg cover Born to Run on an acoustic guitar. Sadly, I don’t have a recording of that performance, but I too enjoy covers of Springsteen songs and to that end here is (not punk, still good) Camera Obscura’s version of “Tougher Than the Rest”.

I also like Frank Turner’s cover of “Thunder Road”.

And this cover of “Hungry Heart” by Lucy Wainwright Roche inspired a scene in the book I’m working on, so I have a soft spot for that too.

March 2025 Feelings

Despite March being the longest month that ever was, I’ve finished a shockingly small number of books. However, I did absolutely ADORE Neko Case’s memoir, The Harder I Fight the More I Love You. If you are a Case fan it is a must-read, chronicling her very wild childhood and the evolution of her music career and life as an artist. She is, unsurprisingly, an incredible writer and the book was shocking, inspiring, and compelling.

Currently, I’m in the middle of We All Live Here, which is somehow the first Jojo Moyes book I’ve ever read. The plot here is catnip to me, starting right after the main character’s life has blown up around her and she is struggling with her divorce, her mother’s death, and the sudden and unwelcome reappearance of her estranged father. I have said “Oh no.” out loud several times while reading, but also laughed out loud frequently.

Thanks for reading! See you next month.

J.W.

Instagram : @JenniferWhitefordWrites

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