Sound Check: Team Opinion performs Nest Fest commentary

Nest Fest was an experience that brought Team Opinion closer together. As two kookie people who collectively ponder, examine and discuss culture, Nest Fest provided a sociological smorgasbord of sights, sounds, and self reflection. Before the doors opened, the opinionated miscreants shared a conversation about their surroundings and perceptions of the "concert culture." Afterwords, they reflected on the experience as they waited in the drive-thru line of a closed McDonalds with about ten other cars. This is their story. ::dun dun::

Andrew Friedgen: So before Nest Fest I was talking about how it was a good bet that most of the kids in line at the time we got there (around 5:15) wouldn't even be FGCU students. Lo and behold, the majority of them were younger kids with 3oh!3 and The Maine T-shirts on. And then those girls called me out because they remember me from a concert the previous week (All Time Low) that was in Fort Lauderdale. What do you think of that? You have a fish bowl perspective. I mean I feel like it might be slightly strange. But it's also a distinct culture for me.

Sara Gottwalles: I thought it was pretty interesting. I mean, you and I are 6 years apart, and yet the generation culture gap is like Carmen Electra's boobs- so close and yet so deep between. We didn't go to concerts like you guys do. My friends and I didn't go to a concert every week, or even once a month. Our parents would drive us to Orlando to see N Sync and in later years we would drive up to Tampa to see 30 Seconds to Mars or My Chemical Romance, but the culture was totally different from what I see now. In this culture now, there is a distinct "us and them" feel versus when I was in my late teenie bopper years, it was more of a unity feel, with one group of "thems" perhaps, depending on the concert.

Andrew Friedgen: I started going to the type of shows that reflect this culture at around 2008 and while I never really experienced what you did, I'm aware enough of the culture that I know what you're talking about. There's an unfortunate sense of entitlement at shows nowadays. All the kids have their eyes stuck to twitter and many of them will get angry when the band members don't come out to meet with everyone after the show. They expect it. While it's true that in "the scene," bands do generally hang out afterward, there is no reason to get up in arms when they don't. They go around the country, many of them driving through the night to get to their next stop and many of them barely make a living. It's completely unnecessary. At Nest Fest, some of the comments I heard boiled my blood. One girl was telling Taking Back Sunday to hurry up and get on stage, and another girl was being extremely rude just so she could get a rail spot for 3oh!3 which she thought she deserved.

 Sara Gottwalles: I think its mostly a sign of the change in the generation. As you said, the false sense of entitlement is vomit inducing. If you want an intimate setting with the bands, go to an intimate show. Smaller club shows are always more promising than an all out showcase concert like Nest Fest- which serves its purpose. These bands don't owe you anything. Yes, you bought their album. Fantastic. They're not going to bend to your every desire because they aren't your mommy and daddy. They have so many people to try to please, your demands and rotten attitudes are not going to win their hearts. No one wants to invite an asshole backstage or to go out of their way for such a person.

      Ah, yes. Twitter. In between sets, everyone was checking their Facebook feeds to see if anyone had commented on their "I'm at Nest Fest and its amazing!" status. The patience is shot. When we were there though, you were explaining this dress phenomena. I was intrigued my friend. Recap?

Andrew Friedgen: Right. As I was explaining in line, one of the biggest markers of the "scene" culture is the dress. You saw it—the custom made shirts, the jet black hair with eye-catching highlights, the one-shoulder slung Maine shirts, the profuse amount of band wristbands, and the bold hair colors. Then there's the terms—scene

girl," "lot lizard," etc. I've been to enough of these shows to be able to spot someone out with, I might say, an eagle eye. You can't really make the mistake of calling it "emo" because there's a lot more variation than that.

Sara Gottwalles: ::sits down and crosses legs:: The grasshopper is listening. How would you classify the "scene girl" and differ her from other groups such as "emo?"

 Andrew Friedgen: The typical "scene girl" (and guy) visually are quite similar to "emo" (for the record, I can't believe I'm talking so in depth about this) but the difference is in the attitude and where you find them. Everyone knows the stereotype associated with "emo" culture but with "scene" it's less of a defined thing. Being a "scene" person is more of a definition by musical tastes. Nest Fest provides a great example. 3oh!3 and The Maine, while quite different styles of music, are actually both major "scene" players. You could expect to find the same people at a 3oh!3 show at a Maine show and vice versa. While there are stereotypical "scene" looks (as I described), you could easily be a Beatles T-shirt wearing guy with khakis and still be in the "scene," because it's a swath of music culture more than an ideology. That's why I saw the same girls at an All Time Low show at Nest Fest. It's the encompassing mold.

Sara Gottwalles: Its funny how over time things become more defined. That was present "back in the day" too, but we didn't label it as seriously. You were correct in saying that the unspoken rule against wearing mass produced band T-shirts of the group you were going to see was started by my generation. And its true, you just don't do it. Once again, especially depending on the show, you simply cannot get away with it in some cases. If you wore a Marilyn Manson shirt to one of his concerts, you would be the epitome of an epic fail. And my people would let you know. There we go again with the obvious groupings. Music is the one unifier and divider. It's such a fascinating dichotomy.