Why I will never go to another Jack White concert ever again

Do you like music? I LOVE IT! I would go as far as placing music in my list of top ten things I can't live without (others would have to include mostly people in my life as well as some aspects of technology and goooooood food).

Music is like watching films with your eyes wide open, it's feeling what you didn't even know was in you, it's dreaming when fully awake, it's letting go, it's the entirety of the range of human emotions translated into melodies and verses. It is beauty and inspiration and comfort and I freaking LOVE it!

I've always felt the same about music, even though the object of my affection has changed from time to time. Growing up I have gone from listening to ... wait for it ...


Celine Dion and Mariah Carey (I was 12 ok? That must count for something), to the Backstreet Boys (I was 14 ok? The teenage girl crazy hormones took hold of my sanity), to Brandy, LL Cool J and The Fugees (yeah...can't seem to explain that, although I still like some of that stuff), to Coldplay (I was 18 and emotional for leaving home and it was before Coldplay turned to shit), house music (or at least I think that's what it was, and the reason was a guy so... yeah... there you have it), Billie Holiday (bought a collection of her songs in 2001 because I liked the cover of the CD and fell in love with her voice) and Muse (heard "Plug in baby" on a music channel and fell in love with the guitar riff) as well as many other kinds of my music from my homeland.

It is safe to say that I would prefer going to a great concert to going shopping any day, hands down! You can, therefore, imagine how freaking excited I was to go to Jack White's concert in Radio City Music Hall in New York two weeks ago during my visit to the City that never lets anyone sleep.

Radio City Music Hall from the inside

My boyfriend and I had bought the tickets just 10 days before the concert and couldn't believe our luck that we didn't have to sell our souls to Velzevul or prostitute ourselves outside the concert hall to get inside, on the night of September 30, 2012.

Standing inside that great concert venue, holding those magic pieces of paper in our hands felt unreal and amazingly exciting. I had to pinch myself to realize it wasn't a dream!

The concert started great and Jack White was loud and rude towards the audience (as expected from an anti-conventional rock icon). We were shaking our heads to the music and cheering him on while he abused his guitar the way only he can, loving every single minute of it.

Sometime halfway through the first part of the concert (it must have been something like 45 minutes into the show) and after playing "Ball and Biscuit" in front of an ecstatic crowd, Jack White left the stage. Just like that. No explanation, no "goodbye", no note, nothing.

Though the crowd cheered on for a long time and chanted "Seven Nation Army" throughout his absence, he never resurfaced and the people in the hall were left with nothing to hold on to from the concert, not even a nice memory of it, since Jack White had just crapped all over it!

After the curtain fell, 20 minutes into waiting for Mr. White to come back out, I literally had to drag my boyfriend who looked like a 5-year-old about to burst into tears because Santa had just defecated onto his Christmas toys, out of Radio City Music Hall to lick the wounds his guitarist idol had caused on his innocent, admiration filled, fan heart.

So yeah, that is the reason I will never go to another Jack White concert ever again. I don't appreciate being treated like shit, even if it is from a rock demi-god like Jack White.

Those of you who will argue this by saying that this erratic behavior is what makes rock legends be legends and you can't force an artist to be a robot just because you are paying for him to sing might be right on some level: The level where artists are mythical beings floating in an imaginary universe, listening only to the magical entity of their inspiration and drug-induced fantasies. These artists can do pretty much anything because they don't belong to this world. They don't care about success and recognition and people loving their music and paying a hell of a lot to hear them live because they idolize them.

Well, if that is what you think then please be my guest and pay good money to go to a concert that lasts less than a Breaking Bad episode. You can cheer and sing and worship that person's gift to make music, even though he doesn't give a damn. You may be right: Jack White doesn't owe his fans anything, because he is a rock icon and he can do whatever the hell he wants.

Believe that, advocate that and stand by it next time he interrupts a performance because he is not happy with the sound or with the fact that he doesn't like New York crowds. Please, knock yourself out.

I sure as hell never will again.

Radio City Music Hall from the outside