Review: (The Crowd At) Flogging Molly, February 21, Poughkeepsie, NY

Flogging Molly is, hands down, my favorite band to see live. I’ve admittedly not seen Gogol Bordello, whom I hear is right up there with the FM, but I have my allegiances, and they lie with the band sporting the green white and orange (for now). After seeing Flogging Molly several times a year for eight consecutive years, I feel as though—coming from me—a simple review of one of their shows would come off very generic and run-of-the-mill, regardless of how un-generic or run-of-the-mill the shows actually are. All you need to know: fun songs make for fun dancing, and great songs played fast and more energetic makes for fun energetic dancing. Sure, they debuted some new songs at the show, but I’ll save my review on those for when the album comes out (but I’ll give you a preview: awesome).

One thing I’ve noticed eight years into the game—not to sound like a preachy old fart—is that the crowd has gone down hill. To be clear, I’m not against a band’s success. Not only am I proud of the guys who I saw for the first in one of New York City’s smallest venues sell out theaters, but I’m also not one to turn on new fans. My biggest problem lies with the non-fans taking up valuable pit room at a sold out show.

Every time I have the opportunity to see Flogging Molly, it’s a thrice-circled date in my calendar. So when I’m stuck behind some dude chewing gum, not singing a single word the entire night, and blocking my view of the stage with his outstretched arm, equipped with a fancy camera phone, then unfortunately, I revert back to angry purist fan. “Get out of my show,” I think, “I saw them first, they’re mine, and quite frankly, you don’t deserve to be here.” Last night, while being forced to view a live show through the viewfinder of a camera phone, I cursed technology’s advancements for ruining my good time.

Luckily, next week I have the chance to experience the concert all over again, this time at a venue with enough floor space to allow for me to avoid such instances—in theory. The truth is that the scenario is far to ubiquitous. Leave one camera phone, run into another digital camera. It’s a never-ending cycle, and excuse me if I’m not going to feel sympathy when your gadget breaks, but I’m there to rock! (And you should be too.)