Kanye West at Bonnaroo

I was reading this article about Kanye West's performance at Bonnaroo and the controversy surrounding it, as well as the video from the recent Queens of the Stone Age show. The comments got me thinking about shows I'd seen over the years and what made them special.

Kings of spectacle, U2, made a huge impression on me at the ZooTV tour (where they played with the Sugarcubes and Public Enemy), with their monolithic screens and totally over-the-top show.

Nine Inch Nails wowed me with their giant screen that dropped in front of the Downward Spiral tour crowds.

And I love the light show that She Wants Revenge had going on their last tour.

But those things didn't make them good shows. They might have made them 'better' shows. What really makes a memorable show for me though is feeling like I've connected with the artist. Music, for many people, myself included, is very personal. There are songs out there that will literally bring me to tears, every time I hear them. There are tracks out there for every bit of the emotional spectrum. We memorize these songs, make mixtapes, dedicate them to others. They become the soundtracks to our lives.

I've never had someone come up to me and say "Oh my god, that is my favorite song! It changed my life! I love it!" I can imagine though, that must be really powerful every time you hear it. There's a responsibility that comes with that power. Artists need to remember that when they play to a crowd, the crowd knows them through their music (and in some unfortunate cases, the tabloids) and is communing with them through their songs.

I'm sure when millions of young girls screamed relentlessly at the Beatles, John, Paul, George and Ringo felt that power. The ability to carve a memory into someones life permanently, either a shining wonderful one, or a painful scar is something most of us only experience in a one-on-one basis.

I mentioned in a post last month that my worst concert ever was the Circle Jerks. Why? Because the lead singer stopped playing and yelled at the audience and made it seem like he was doing us a favor by being there.

One of my favorite show memories is hanging out with Radio 4 in New Orleans after they'd played. We all went drinking together till about 4 am. Or the time I ran into the Faint the morning after they'd played in Houston. We were staying at the same hotel and all had that same haggard look on us. We joked and laughed and took pictures.

All of those memories had nothing to do with the bands' performances or the lighting or tricks. They had to do with an individual connecting with someone else. I harbored all of these memories and emotions in connection with these bands' songs and now I was able to look these people in the eye and say 'I get it,' and 'You're being heard'. That's really important. Maybe even imperative. It didn't even have to be so direct. It could have just been singing along with them at the show, being able to hook into a real human, instead of an mp3.

Whether or not Kanye's stage production glowed in the dark at 5am is irrelevant. What is relevant is that he didn't address his fans or take just a moment to connect with them as one human being to another. If he'd come onstage on time, I can understand that some artists want to maintain a certain mystique. Fine. But if you come on two hours late, you had better do something to heal that wound. All those Kanye fans out there won't remember that the sound was good or that the lighting effects were catchy. They'll remember that they waited till dawn to connect with Kanye, and he didn't acknowledge them. That's got to hurt.