Musial Influences. We all have them. Some we admit. Some we don’t. Some are shared. Some are similar. Here, most are a particular genre. And then there are those influences that are uniquely our own, influences that hit us, and in that instant, leave something with us. Me? I have a lot of influences, and a great many of them … don’t match. I’ve read people complain about the modern sound. I’ve read people complain about EDM (electronic dance music). I understand that sentiment. It’s the sentiment of “Purists”. That’s a wonderful way to be, truly it is, because Purists want raw talent, the kind where kids practice their instruments until age 20 or so, then … take over the world in a rush of rock ‘n’ roll excitement. To me, the Purists’ view seems like the influence-equivalent of being intellectual, intellectual like musical-genius-intellectual, and it is right to want to be a musical genius. The love of that influence is strong. I have that too, most certainly I do. But there also is this thing in me where I see art in the musical work of the less complicated, a formula that doesn’t require a band, a take-over-the-world sound, just something that makes me want to sing along, or lately to “drum” along. I’ve heard said about divergent tastes in music, “it’s all art.” To me it is, this other music I like is, art. But then again “art” is subjective. Isn’t it? And what does that mean anyway: art?

Art. The dictionary definition says it is “the expression or application of human creative skill and imagination … producing works to be appreciated primarily for their beauty or emotional power.” So, beauty or emotion; is that what art is? I think it can be, but it’s more; it’s different. So I asked what do the greats say it is? To them, what is art? You would think they would know, right? One of the greats, Leo Tolstoy (even if he is a bit long-winded seeing as, no matter how many times I unsuccessfully try, I can’t get past the first chapter of Anna Karenina), dismisses that “beauty or emotion” statement. He says of art, “it is not the production of pleasing objects,” so not beauty. He says of art, “it is not pleasure,” so not emotion. He says, instead, “it is a means of union among men (women too I suppose), joining them together in the same feelings” (oh and a bit more similar wording because that dude was really wordy, I’m not kidding about that part). All jokes aside, that seems it to me: art is the means to join people together in the same feelings. Indeed, that is the art of a concert, a concert that really works. And so was my Ellie Goulding concert. It was a concert where everyone there was “joined together” in this sea of emotion, emotion that for those two hours, had everyone joined singing along, moving along, living along, together, in a sea of loud, a sea of fun, a sea of emotion, as if we were all one. By the way, I’ve been intending to write this since April 15, the date I actually went to that concert, but I was nervous. I fear the “that’s cookie-cutter”, “nothing new is good”, “we need kids who play rock to make more hard rock” reactions. I fear those reactions especially since Ellie’s music has inspired my own creativity, my own (hopefully) future art, and I fear what I like would not be what many would like. But this concert was proof that I am not alone in my appreciation for this music. In fact, this concert had the best energy coming out of an audience that I’ve ever seen. It was as if the entire audience could have held hands together singing along to these songs that everyone there seemed to love just as much as I do. It truly was a “means of union among [people] joining them together in the same feelings.” Ellie’s concert was indeed … art.

I went by myself, but I was never alone. Indeed, as I arrived to stand in a line to enter Pomona, California’s sold-out Fox Theater and wait until security let us in and was exhibiting moments of shyness, a group of people in line welcomed me, literally telling me I wasn’t alone. “Look” they said “look at all these people here with you.” The crowd was a mix of people, probably majority female, although it didn’t seem obviously so, comprised of differing ages and “types”, including hipster Indie-types, girls dressed up as if they were going to a club, dads and daughters (my favorite part), older and young, everyone so excited that several people snapped photos of the marquee’s simple statements: “Ellie Goulding”, “sold out”. Tickets were mid-priced, approximately $50, all general admission, and literally all 2,000 of the people standing, separated into the “pit” (the very front floor), the mezzanine (the floor area about three feet higher than the pit section and where I was) and the balcony, were all die-hard Ellie fans. I too am a die-hard Ellie fan, so I was happy to see Ellie in this small setting. In fact, given the airplay her “radio” songs have (Lights, Anything Could Happen,I Know You Care, Burn), I didn’t expect the concert to be this size. That itself was the best part. It was like a secret party… a very, very loud secret party, with the loudness itself developing a life of its own.

Loud… the crowd screamed, not realizing there was a back-up act. The back-up singer was a rocker-girl named Conway, with an 80s-type, punk/rock sound. She had a good set, energetic and powerful, but it was easily overshadowed by the excitement of the anticipation of seeing Ellie. Then came the stage set up for Ellie. The stage itself was small, with the full set-up taking the entirety of the stage. I saw all of the familiar elements; literally I watch some Ellie concert every day, so I know these elements. In certain songs, she plays a tom drum, now turned into two tom drums, situated at the front of the stage. With those tom drums is a vocal sound box from which she controls the backing vocal sound on the song that made me truly love her, Anything Can Happen. In simply seeing those pieces of equipment be set up center stage, I knew I had made the right decision, to go by myself to this concert, because I truly was going to see my own personal inspiration just a few feet in front of me with a full-access view. And what that would come to mean as far as my own “art”, I didn’t yet fully anticipate….

Loud…. The lights dimmed, and then “her band” (she calls her back-up musicians her band) took the stage. They launched into a long introduction to one of her harder songs off her 2012 Sophomore release Halcyon, a heavy drum-sound song, something I’m very into right now, called Figure 8. When Ellie walked on the stage, the audience screamed so loudly I think it might have been the loudest sound I’ve ever heard.

Loud…. Critics — I reviewed them before writing this — mentioned how the audience’s singing drowned out Ellie. That wasn’t my experience. Aside from the “loudness”, the critics noted her varied set, how she played, skillfully mind you, an enormous white (Gibson) acoustic guitar, how she played drums at the beginning of certain songs, the strength of her voice on an acoustic set. By the way, she had a nice black and white trimmed Gibson (standard) electric for the end of the latest hit song Burn. The critics mentioned how Ellie is influenced by a lot of different styles and genres, including guitar, dance, EDM, pop, singer-songwriter, the artist Bjork (Ellie’s own stated influence), how her styles, and her audience, are all over the map. One critic even questioned what she was going to “be”, like her music needs to pick a genre. All of critics mentioned how much the audience loved it, how “joined together” the audience was, joined with each other, joined with Ellie, “Gould Diggers”, one particular critic called us.  Perhaps that critic didn’t understand Tolstoy’s definition of art; he didn’t understand that the very nature of this “joining together” is what everyone loved the most. But I’m taken by that statement that was critical of Ellie’s lack of genre. I want to say “so what?” So what if some of her stuff is pop? So what she can play guitar and yet she chooses to dance around and play music with a dance beat? For me, it is her variation that takes truly takes me in, that inspires me.

Loud… Contrary to the critics’ slight, you could scream, jump, dance, sing, I mean really, really sing, and still the concert was louder. It was indeed very, very loud art! Her music, this concert, included everything from songs to dance to, songs to sing to, songs to (almost) rock out to. And she’s really human. She’s pretty, but not in that in-your-face way of so many newer stars. She sings. She plays guitar. She dances, and I don’t think that’s a sell-out-bad-thing. She plays these really cool drums. And she has a really distinctive voice. And … she does it all making me believe that could be me, like this could be my music. This music takes me in. This music makes me find something musical in myself, this surprise in me I wasn’t fully expecting, this influence in me that remained after the concert and prompted me to brave Guitar Center to get… well, I’ll tell you about that later because it’s crazy, like really crazy, and I have to work to pull it off. Plus, come to think of it, for me to be inspired enough to get over that Guitar Center phobia of mine, now that’s something! This music makes me completely lose myself; it makes me find comfort in the hard times; it gives me comfort in my safe place; it holds me, all while making me cheer, making me dance, making me sing, making me pick up the guitar, buy a drum (or two), making me want to get out the music in my own head. It seems to do it all.

While I’m at this quoting-writers-thing, I might as well quote one more: Thomas Merton (No Man Is An Island). He said, “art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time.” So I’m left wondering, what does that mean? Is that the same meaning as influence? Perhaps. Perhaps art and influence are exactly the same thing. And if that’s the case, well then, I suppose despite my fears of what is popular or within the proper genre, Ellie Goulding is my influence. And there you have it…. Ellie’s concert did two things for me. She made me have this amazing time where I was part of this joined-together audience. And … she left me with an influence, an influence strong enough that it makes me want to create, an influence strong enough that I would brave Guitar Center and not apologize … because after all, I have stuff to buy, stuff that’s necessary for … art.

Opening song, Figure 8:

Explosions and My Blood:

Portion of acoustic song Guns and Horses:

Backup singer, Conway: