I’m Just Gonna Dance All Night

They didn’t want Nolan and I to meet. A mutual friend would mention him often, but follow up with “you guys can never know eachother, it would be trouble.” He was absolutely right.

When we were finally introduced, we’d already been told so much of eachother: music, pop culture, home economics… we had things in common. We took a trip to Disneyland with our mutual friend Jonathan. Throughout the long sunny day of fun, I recall Nolan telling me about a nice new boy he was talking to; the man he would eventually marry, my friend Eric. I remember an electricity in the air as we learned more about eachother. We shared intense passions for life. He was like a speeding party bus that had room enough for anyone with the right energy.

Nolan met me in my formative years. Freshly out of the closet and without much experience in the gay world, Nolan was miles ahead. He’d forged past the obstacles of a young gay man in the mid-2000’s, long before the current social climate that welcomes young people into queerdom. Although a few years younger, he’d made a safe space for himself that he wanted to invite me into.

I met countless people through Nolan. He ran winery tours, and would presumably get phone numbers from new friends on a weekly basis. Each time I was with him (no matter the city) he’d run into familiar faces, and he’d proudly introduce me as his friend. Nolan saw a version of me that I hadn’t yet embodied. One that defied the shy persona that I was presenting to the world. He insisted that everyone saw the vision of me that he knew was there, starting with me.

These are five songs that mark moments in our time together.

Last Friday Night (T.G.I.F.) – Katy Perry

Nolan was always a pensive, old soul, but had the capacity to be the life of the party in the right moments. He insisted on bringing me to an 18+ party that ran on Thursdays in Hollywood, long before I lived in the city. The idea of a gay club seemed far beyond the reach of my social capacity, but Nolan had no doubt that I’d have a great time. This would be my first gay club experience. That evening, the night was themed to the just-released track from Katy Perry’s Teenage Dream album. I can’t hear it without remembering us dancing to it in our small group before dashing back to our suburban lives in Temecula.

Every Teardrop is a Waterfall – Coldplay

Adamant about showing me everything I needed to see as a newly minted gay, Nolan insisted on bringing me with his boyfriend Eric to San Diego Pride in 2011, my first Pride festival experience. On the way down, sitting in the back of Eric’s SUV, they flipped around the radio before landing on the new Coldplay song that I hadn’t heard yet. It’s a celebratory, euphoric track that illuminates triumph through sadness. At that festival, an impossibly attractive man stared in our direction from across a grassy area. Assuming he was checking out somebody else, I suggested we move on. “He’s looking at you Aaron.” Eric said. I blushed, and attempted again to get the group moving in the opposite direction. “If you don’t go talk to him I’m just going to go and give him your number,” Nolan said. I had no choice but to approach the muscly blonde blue-eyed man who I learned was a teacher from Belgium and go-go danced on the side. He was indeed looking in my direction, and I never would have known if not for the confidence of my friends.

Vogue – Madonna

A classic pop music fan, Nolan loved Madonna. She was his all-time favorite pop gal, which each gay is entitled one of. Even though he had much to say about each era of the Queen of Pop, he respected the earliest works that lifted her to her current level of stardom. We’d play the Immaculate Collection around his boyfriend’s house while cooking or working on homemaking projects. Nolan, like Madonna, contained multitudes. There were thought-provoking quips and long conversations over wine, but he shined the brightest in lighthearted fun moments that remind me of Madonna’s first releases. Vogue represents an unabashedly brave queer moment in pop culture far preceding it’s conventional acceptance. Nolan was similarly ahead of the curve and refused any rejection of his unapologetic and fabulous nature.

Call Your Girlfriend – Robyn

As much as I credit my friend for his own legacy, his mother Sherry deserves accolades for creating such a person. When I booked tickets for a “secret Robyn Performance” in West Hollywood on Halloween, I naturally turned to Nolan to commission two other people to come with. “Cool if my mom and Eric come?” He asked. “Absolutely!” I answered. They came with a force, fully costumed up to attend a surprise concert as part of the annual West Hollywood Carnaval.

We were lined up around the stage bordered by a high white tarp surrounding all sides of us with a huge crowd of unsuspecting onlookers outside of the perimeter. As Robyn started singing her at-the-time new single “Call Your Girlfriend,” the tarps dropped away to reveal a pop-up concert for the onlookers taking part in a Halloween Parade. During the performance, Robyn twirled to our edge of the stage and knelt down into the crowd, grabbing my hand and singing into my face. Nolan drummed on my shoulders and embraced a shocked, quivering young me. That remains my favorite concert experience, and he enjoyed it alongside me with his boyfriend and mother, who gave the approval of the music that reminded her of what she’d danced to in the ’80s.

Born This Way – Lady Gaga

I’m proud to say that I’ve seen Lady Gaga grow from her moment of inception to monumental heights. When she was a niche artist just for certain communities, my friends and I were there. Nolan and I would talk at length about the art direction of Lady Gaga’s music videos, magazine spreads and live performances. To celebrate my 21st birthday, a few friends and I attended a live performance of Lady Gaga’s on Jimmy Kimmel Live promoting her new album “Born This Way.” More friends joined us at a nearby club after the fact. Nolan was there with handfuls of our other friends (many of whom I only knew because of Nolan).

Fast-forward about ten years to current day. My sister and I took the incredible opportunity to see Lady Gaga perform a sold-out concert at Dodger Stadium. The crowd was very mixed– a clear indicator that our once-niche favorite pop prodigy had reached conventional success- and I couldn’t have been prouder of the girl who we saw perform in a parking lot so many years prior. Having recently gotten the news that my friend’s health had taken a turn for the worst, I spoke directly in my sisters ear during the concert that if Nolan could see this, he’d never believe it. We uplifted Lady Gaga all the way to the top until she shattered the glass ceiling. I learned the next morning that Nolan had died that evening. A wise friend rationalized to me that, even though I was allowed to be sad to lose someone whom I had so much love for, Nolan was there with me at that concert after all.

Retelling the events of Memorial Day 2022 to my friends, coworkers and family always starts the same. I explain, “I’ve spent my adult life going to as many concerts and shows as I can, and they’re all amazing experiences, but this one is like, top three. One of the most amazing times.” I didn’t even think to write about it as I was chewing over everything in the days following, but a friend suggested that it would be worthy of proper recap.

Starting retrospectively, the Yeah Yeah Yeahs were my second concert, shortly after my first in 2006. Two high school friends (only one among the three of us could drive) and I caught a show at SOMA San Diego, which is a 500 person occupancy general admission venue, in support of their second LP “Gold Lion.” Awesome time, great setlist, and it would remain the only time I saw them in that kind of venue for 16 years.

I caught the band performing just two songs for a Jimmy Kimmel Live! taping in 2013, and watched them co-headline a night at the Hollywood Bowl with LCD Soundsystem in 2018. It’s always a thrill to see one of your favorite bands, but the experience was just different. A big venue where you’re seated far away doesn’t pack the same punch in the face that a band like the Yeah Yeah Yeahs intend to deliver.

They stopped making new music after 2013’s Mosquito, and the three bandmates took on new projects, scoring films, participating in new music collaborations and photography. It didn’t feel like we’d ever circle back to the original format, but that was ok. They had a legendary run and were never duplicated by any other ensemble as a band.

I love talking about them to those unfamiliar with their work. There’s a magic to the way they perfectly captured punk-rock rage and thrills in songs like “Date With the Night” and “Black Tongue,” only to flip the coin and disembowel listeners with hearbreaking, touching ballads like “Skeletons” and of course, “Maps.” Nobody else so perfectly takes you on a skyrocketing elevator ride up, only to drop you right off the building seconds later. The emotional journey is incredible.

A few weeks ago on a Sunday afternoon while I was running errands, YYYs started posting cryptic messages. “LA Look up!” with photos of skywriting above the Hollywood Bowl: “YEAH YEAH YEAHS.” I felt a jolt of excitement. What could this mean?! Days later a teaser appeared on IG of Karen O’s face obscured by a 1980’s pink fuzzy filter. She held still, eyes closed, and opened them to an unrecognizable synth melody playing behind her. New music was on the horizon, and the formal announcement of several global tour dates and two US stadium performances were made for the Fall of this year.

With that safely in the future, I was taken quite aback on Friday May 27th when I wrapped up a meeting with a client and checked my phone to see that the band had posted “Warm us up LA!” advertising a surprise show at the Teragram Ballroom just outside Downtown LA on May 30th, only three days later. Unfortunately for me, the tickets had sold out within minutes and I was just enough behind the curve to have missed it. There was a strict 2 ticket max and will-call only policy with NO transfers allowed, which meant they could not be bought or sold via Stubhub or any other secondary marketplace. I was shit out of luck, and crushed.

At that point, I told myself, “There’s nothing I can really do, but I’m going to show up early on Monday and see if there’s anything that can be done. I know it’s stupid, but I’ll hate myself more if I don’t try.”

I declined invites to the beach or shopping on Memorial Day, and headed down to the venue around 1pm. To my surprise, there was nobody in sight. Better, I though. I prepared for a long day ahead.

Within an hour of arrival I could hear equipment being moved from inside, and somebody spotted me through a window that I couldn’t see through from the outside. He cracked the door and looked at me sternly, asking “can I help you with anything?” Unsure of how to answer I said “I was really just wondering if there would be any day-of tickets being sold. I don’t have one.” “Very very unlikely man. It’s completely sold out and because of capacity and with the no transfer policy, I don’t see it happening. I’m sorry.” I told him that I had hoped to buy somebody’s extra ticket off of them if their plus one canceled, or something, and he flatly told me it wasn’t likely to work out, but it was up to me if I wanted to hang out.

About an hour later a young guy showed up who was looking to buy a ticket as well. He left when I told him that I was up to the same thing. Once again hanging out there alone, I posted on my Insta Story that I was going to try to get into this show, but it wasn’t likely to happen, so any friends in the area should stop by and say hi, since I’d be there all day.

An older gentleman joined me in line, claiming to have an extra ticket, but delivered the information so nonchalantly, I didn’t believe him. He went back to his car, and I was again alone until a woman opened the doors from inside the venue and walked down the sidewalk so as to take a picture of the marquee which read “Yeah Yeah Yeahs SOLD OUT.” I stepped back and said “oh sorry am I in your shot? I can move.” She lowered her camera from her eye and smiled at me, saying nothing. I paused, waiting for her to tell me what was so funny. “The band saw that you’re out here. They thought it was really cool. We might be able to help you, but hang tight.”

My stomach dropped, and I immediately checked my excitement, fully aware that this was no guarantee, but the acknowledgement felt so good. They SEE me, standing there in my bright green tshirt that I bought at their show so many years ago the first time that I saw them.

Hours passed, and another few people joined the line, all of whom had tickets. I stood in the front feeling the irony of the fact that I had the least legitimate purpose there, but wouldn’t dare leave, just incase something amazing were to happen. I didn’t eat that day, but I did go to a nearby store to get a RedBull, and returned. Later I found a public restroom to use, and returned. This was the longest I’d ever waited in a line, all while purely riding on a small chance.

When there were about 15 people lined up behind me and the sun had shifted a little, around 5 pm, I was chatting with the boy who had earlier asked about buying a ticket off me and returned after his shift at work. The door slowly opened from the venue just a crack, and we all turned at attention. It was the original guy who I had chatted with much earlier in the day. “Hey you, can I talk to you for a second?” “Am I in trouble?” I joked. He opened the door wide enough for me to step into the foyer with him. Without really looking at me he whipped out his phone and asked “What’s your name? Last?” After typing it in some kind of note he finally let me in on what was going on. “The band put you on their guest list. Thank you for waiting.”

After, he revealed that he was the GM of the venue, I told him “I’m going to cry and throw up.” He said “Don’t throw up or I can’t let you in man!”

I rejoined the line, looking like a ghost, and told the small group of people who were equally perplexed what had just happened. “SHUT THE FUCK. UP.” Was the response. I wanted so badly to burst into tears but had to hold it together with who would soon become the crowd I’d be jamming with. I was shaking like a ladder to the sun. It felt like a movie, and the happy ending was not just beheld by me. The boy in line behind me was then able to buy the ticket off of the older gentleman, who turned out to be completely legitimate, and charged him face value for the ticket, fully aware that he had all the power to make hundreds off of a desperate fan.

Overjoyed and experiencing euphoria, I watched the evening begin to really unfold. A merch guy showed up with lots of heavy boxes. I held the door open for him with each trip, since I was standing right next to it and no longer felt like a loiterer. He’d return a bit later to ask “Hey dude what’s your shirt size?” He gifted me a black t-shirt with a never-before seen logo design and lyrics to the new single on the back. This was the first taste of this album’s aesthetic that anybody had experienced, and I was holding it in my hands, taking it all in and peering into the next chapter of the band’s legacy.

I was soon thereafter let into the venue, which was about the size of Soma: tiny. I grabbed a spot on the barricade, dead center, and stayed there in the room alone a bit while the rest of the crowd slowly filled in around me. The fans to my right walked down the aisle to a Yeah Yeah Yeahs song. The guy to my left had seen them first the same year as me. This was a crowd of superfans. “What do you wanna hear!?” we asked eachother. We all agreed that there were no wrong moves to be made as the band’s discography is so solid. “I don’t know why, but ‘Soft Shock’ has always been my favorite of theirs. It’s just so touching.” I told them. They appreciated the original response and that I had such appreciation for a song that was never a single and didn’t have a video.

After a bit of setup, the lights went out and we all screamed in unison, so excited that the time was here. First Brian stepped out on the drums, then Nick on Guitar, and finally, Karen O emerged draped in a tattered and shredded cape over a jumpsuit of the same wild blue raspberry and cherry colored scribble design. Adorned with a helmet with sharp spikes and a huge gold “K O” necklace, she went right into their new single “Spitting off the Edge of the World” in it’s first ever live performance. The song and accompanying video wouldn’t premiere for two more days after that, so this was truly a historic moment happening right before our eyes.

We danced and sang along as she worked her way through their set, making stops along all of their previous four albums, but peppering in 4 of 8 new tracks from their upcoming album “Cool It Down.” Six song’s in after wearing us all out dancing to “Zero,” she slowed it down a bit, closed her eyes while the room filled with curious inhuman beeps and went into “Soft Shock.”