There are a whole host of reasons to go and watch a band live here in Mexico City. I’m not talking U2 at el Azteca; take those 1000 pesos and enjoy ten nights out. I’m talking new Mexican bands in regular venues. In fact there are probably more reasons to do it here in Mexico City than there are in anywhere else in the world at this present moment in time.
 

In order to understand what makes the live experience so striking it is best to provide a framework in which we can analyse the phenomenon. It is the combination of place people and point in time to which the musical catalyst is applied in order to create the intense reaction. By considering these characteristics we may gain an insight into what is happening on the indie scene here and what someone can expect on a night out.

Certainly the place in which the event occurs is a key variable in determining the outcome of a night. Mexico City has a fascinating range of venues on offer for live music and the options are expanding rapidly. From Sauce Boxeador, a dilapidated but somehow inviting café on the edge of Colonia Roma to the lush interior of the Teatro Metropolitan in the centre; each physical context creates its own vibe.
 

From Factory’s improbable tree to Pasaguero’s dominating bar each place seems at first almost unsuitable to the purpose for which it is being used. Yet it simply creates a unique perspective from which to view the band in action. Probably the thing that is most exciting, even more than the prospect of seeing a new band live for the first time, is the prospect of watching a new band in a new place. It is almost anticipation squared.

People are obviously the most important component in the complex compound that is a night out. But is more than just having numbers it is all about participation. There is nothing like the vibe created through band and crowd merging as one; not “sing long sessions” as the corporate packages we accept as the live music experience tend to interpret the word. No sing long represents a dangerous veer towards the middle of the road on the journey of any band (Zoë Metropolitan fans beware).

Participation is about movement, again not shuffling to the music in a square foot of space standing in front of a seat you never use yet have paid through the nose for. Participation is about physical interaction, the stage dive, the crowd surf with lost shoes and emptied pockets, the mosh pit with its pure, vacant and inviting centre. Participation is the ability to move in a space constantly being redefined by the movement of others. Blood sweat and tears – that is what people give the performance, everyone contributes whether they are on stage or not. That is the role of people in the true live performance.

The point in time is now. The live music scene is exploding here in the city. Probably for the first time there are more venues opening than there are closing. Twenty options or more of indie music can exist on any Saturday night, every one different; the place, people and music will see to that. More choice is a wonderful thing and even more choice will grow from more interest, it becomes almost a self-fulfilling prophesy.
 

Remember live music is not like clicking on your mp3 file or putting your CD in the stereo, it is different every time. Bands grow and change, recordings are a “sonic snapshot” that you go back to like a fond memory. Live is reality stimulating the five senses at once.

 

Live is Jorge from The John Band’s guitar solo at Foro Alicia while Alejandro is off stage with technical problems.

Live is the bass bayonet charge by Rodo of Maniqui Lazer at the CCE.

Live is Amira of Sub Division sat in the middle of the floor at Pasaguero chanting “Blue Boy” in sharp stabbing monosyllables.

Live is Disidente playing in front of 10 people at Dos97 just a couple of hours after playing in front of 10,000 at Palacio Deportes.

Live is a broken string or a missed chord early in the evening at Sauce Boxeador.

Live is Martin Thulin standing in the crowd at Cultural Roots watching Los Fancy Free.

Live is Childs enchanting electronic thank you that drifts imperceptible through the air on a sunny afternoon at Dia C in La Ibero.

Live is watching Silvero in his ‘longjohns’ bashing the decks with his head at Septimo Piso.

Live is the sound created by el Hombre Bala’s drums, combined with Furland’s guitar amp and Fredric Pope's microphone.

Live is the promise of all these things. Live is everything. Live is place, people and point in time (i.e. now – tonight) but most of all live is music as it should be heard.