I'd wish that it was the 80s all over again, but bands from that decade just seem to be getting better and better with time.

Last night we drove to Annapolis, Maryland to see (and hear) Howard Jones. Twenty years ago, I, in my yellow Forenza sweater, pushed my way to the front row of the North Park theater on Hertel Avenue in Buffalo, New York. Human's Lib and Dream into Action had been released in the U.S., and the energy of this electronic show was as big as Howard's hair at the time.

Though the hair and the energy were a bit more subdued last evening, the concert was amazing. The venue was tiny and the perfect environment for his acoustic show. The stage was simply set - a keyboard for himself and a chair for guitarist Robin Boult. Boult didn't try to steal the spotlight at all. Instead, he revealed the depth of Howard Jones' music that people sometimes miss amongst all the usual techno bells and whistles.

The acoustic show gave Howard a chance to demonstrate his talents as a lyricist. There's a real difference betweeen listening to a great vocalist sing another songwriter's lyrics, and a great songwriter bring life to his own words. I love both, but the latter is what really moves me in a concert. My three favorite songs have always been "Hide and Seek," "Like to Get to Know You Well" and "New Song." You'd kind of expect an acoustic version of "Hide and Seek" to be even better than the original, which is pretty much true, but I didn't think the other two songs would translate as well as they did without the addition of electronics. They were totally outstanding. Also surprising was "No One is To Blame." I've never really LOVED that song, even though it was a huge hit and one of the songs most people know when you say the name "Howard Jones." Performed live, I heard that song in a completely different way and I loved it. He did a few songs from the new album, Revolution of the Heart, and a few others that haven't been recorded or released.

****************************************

Ok. Now. The real review. The audience. The concert-going experience for me is hugely about the audience and last night did not disappoint. People think I'm a bit strange because I turn every concert into some kind of anthropological psychostudy, but I can't help it. I'm fascinated by group behavior. Here are my observations and conclusions from last night:

CLAPPING - I'm not talking about applause at the end of a song. I'm referring to the moments during a concert when the audience claps to the beat of the song.

There are several varieties of clapping behaviors:

- The performer starts the clapping process. "Oooo! He wants us to clap along! Everybody clap along because he said so!"
- Someone in the audience starts the clapping process and everyone joins in. "Yeah! This IS a good time for clapping along! Good call, person at table 14!"
- A few people in the audience clap along, but it doesn't quite catch on with the rest. "Hey, those people are clapping. Should I clap, too? I don't really feel like clapping right now. They seem to have it under control, so I'ma just let them do their thing."
- One person claps alone. "Why is she clapping? No one else is clapping. Man, what a dork."

There are two physical forms which the clapping may take:

- Invisible clapping - this occurs under a table in small clubs. In an arena setting, it occurs in the lap. The hands remain unseen by most and the clapping is a means of personal expression of enjoyment.
- Visible clapping includes moderate clapping at chest level or vigorous clapping, particularly over the head. Extremely gifted or dedicated clappers may incorporate swaying or the swinging of arms in between claps.

The clapping method affects the volume:

- Holding the hands stiffly and clapping them lightly and evenly from fingertips to palms produces a softer sound.
- Cupping one palm slightly while using the fingertips of the other hand to clap can produce a very loud sound and even result in redness.

The most confusing moment of collective clapping during a concert is knowing when to stop. After a few minutes of vigorous clapping, you may see eyes begin to wander through the crowd, looking for signs of stoppage. Clapping usually ceases in waves, and generally by section. There are always the few rebels, however, who refuse to clap along from the get-go, and others who keep on clapping until the song comes to a close.

SINGING ALONG - This is my favorite thing to watch an audience do, although it does sometimes distract me from the performer entirely.

When people sing along during a concert, you may see the following behaviors:

- The people who know every single word of every single song, and probably know the nuances of every live version as well. These folks like to open their mouths really wide when they sing along, and they usually let actual sound come out, which can be annoying to people nearby. They like fellow fans to know that they are the REAL fans, the BIGGEST fans, because they know all the words and never miss a beat.

- The people who know most of the words. I enjoy watching these people most, because eventually, they will flub up, and I like watching their save techniques. Some just plug on. Some try to move their mouths a little less dramatically to hide the eventual mistakes. Others stop singing completely and turn beet red. Sometimes they turn to their friends or neighbors and smile, as if to say, "I'm going to give singing a break for a moment, because this concert totally rules and I don't want anyone to know I forgot the words to the song!"

- The people who know a few words. These people usually know the chorus, and sing along when the performer stops singing or holds out the microphone to the audience to sing along. These folks chime in eagerly, happy to contribute to the Big Group Number, because they just know it makes the artist FEEL GREAT.

- The people who don't know any words. These people have usually been dragged to the show by a husband, wife, partner, or friend, and just don't care enough to even try.

AUDIENCE PARTICIPATION - This is the behavior that makes me cringe, write notes on little pieces of paper, and lament the stupidity of the human race. You know who I'm talking about. Attention-seeking fans.

- The Loud Laughers. There's always one. He goes to the show, thinking, "I'll laugh as loudly and uniquely as I can at everything the performer says. They will TOTALLY hear me and maybe even LOOK IN MY DIRECTION!" Never mind that when a person is on stage, they can't see anything through the lights. But you just go on thinking that, buddy, and laughing your loud laugh.

- The Caller-Outers. These are the people who yell things out in response to a performers' narrative schtick. For example, the artist might say something like, "I'm going to sing X or Y now," and the caller-outer will yell, "YOU CAN SING ANYTHING YOU WANT!" Sometimes they try to yell out information or inside jokes that ONLY A TRUE FAN WOULD KNOW, because the ultimate goal is always attention and recognition. These folks are also the people who clap loudly when a particular song or past show is mentioned, because THAT very song JUST HAPPENS to be their favorite or they JUST HAPPENED to be at THAT very show. The caller-outers are usually sitting RIGHT NEXT TO the loud laughers. (These people are not to be confused with the WOO WOOers or the whistlers. WOO WOOers and whistlers are everywhere. WOO WOOing and whistling is standard and expected.)

AFTER THE SHOW - Whenever possible, we like to wait to see if the artist is willing to sign a few autographs after a concert. This usually happens in more intimate venues with performers who have a moderate yet dedicated fan base. The only problem with this type of situation, is that one is bound to run into a Superfan.

Superfans are the people who belong to the Official Fan Club and receive thirty-seven different email newsletters, so they can be kept up to date on absolutely everything, except for the artist's latest bowel movement. Maybe.

These people like to stand around after the show, arms laden with Exclusive Paraphernalia, comparing and contrasting the countless concerts they've seen by this person. They like to speak loudly so others can hear the extreme degree of their Superfan-ness, lest anyone think they might ever be able to compete with this level of dedication and knowledge.

In their minds, Superfans and Artists are friends. They imagine that, if everyones lives weren't SO DAMN BUSY, they'd be having lunch at a little bistro somewhere, discussing Buddhism and lamenting Americans' rampant consumerism over a pint of thick dark ale.

Somehow these people always manage to scare the publicist or manager enough with their stalkerish ways to warrant a "personal introduction" during the signing, at which time they feel free to a) cut in front of everyone and b) make inane small talk with the artist, peppering the conversation with enough personal questions to make EVERYONE in the room very uncomfortable. If the performer shows one iota of recognition to a Superfan (even if it is the glint of fear in his eye), forget it. That kind of experience is fodder for Stories to Tell the Grandchildren in the Superfan's memory.

You don't even have to wait for the after-show to recognize these people. They usually stand around before the show and during the intermission, scanning the room for other Superfans, so they can wave at each other and feel very important.

****************************************

A concert just wouldn't be the same without each and every one of these fantastic people. I don't care if you're a Superfan or a Loud Clapper or a Caller-Outer. When we're all singing the "woo ooo ooo oh oh oh" part of "Life in One Day" together at a totally awesome Howard Jones show, if you're sitting near me, I'm gonna look you in the eye and smile.