Something about Harry
Former boy-bander Styles takes fans at Denver’s Pepsi Center in a new direction
This started out as a very different story.
I planned on writing some fun, selfdeprecating essay about being a diehard 31-year-old One Direction fan at a Harry Styles concert. (Which I was.)
I wanted to tell you how he took to the stage as if he were some 1970s rock god, sporting a billowing, sparkly gold shirt and a perfectly messy-yet-coifed ’do as only Harry Styles can. (Which he did.)
I wanted to make some stupid comment about feeling old being able to order a beer. (Which I did).
And, of course, I wanted to make some token joke about the decibel level of screaming teens packing the Pepsi Center. (Which there were plenty of).
I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorry I underestimated you.
I walked into the arena Tuesday night after four years of religiously listening to the 1D discography. I became a fan in 2014 when I took my teen cousin to a stadium show and was blown away. Now, I had four years of music videos and Instagram following and solo albums that prepared me for this moment.
I expected to fan girl out a little, dance a bit, sing some songs then come back and write something cheeky. What I did not expect was to be so movingly reminded about the power of music and the community it creates — even if you’re with 18,000 people.
You can take one quick social media dive or do some Googling and you’ll easily see Harry is an advocate for equality. Heck, his bright yellow, can’t-miss concert tees even sport the words “TREAT PEOPLE WITH KINDNESS.”
One scan of the Denver Pepsi Center crowd Tuesday night showed hundreds of said shirts, mothers with their daughters, groups of teens, thirty-somethings, babies, lots of Pride flags, wigs, lavish outfits, couples ... you name it, they were probably there in the crowd.
Two songs into his set, the former boy-bander gripped the mic with his ring-stacked fingers and lower- arm tattoos exposed to set the tone for the night:
“Feel free to be whoever you want in this space tonight.”
What a concept. Then I thought back to some of the scenes I saw that night: the two teenage girls in the GA pit who were in their own world, performing a dance they made up during the set by opener Kasey Musgraves. I thought about the mom in front of me who was the first to stand up when Harry took the stage and was recording the superstar to her phone as if she was the one who dragged her kids there. I thought about me, the thirty-something at a socalled “boy band concert.”
Be who you want to be. Be free. Be happy.
We’re not who we used to be We’re not who we used to be We’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me
Trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat
For the next two hours, my 18,000 friends and I did just that. Even if we couldn’t be ourselves at work, or with our families, or walking the streets, we were ourselves inside that arena.
We sang lyrics together that are usually reserved for the privacy of your own car. (I don’t need the folks along Colfax Avenue to know I embarrassingly listen to 1D’s “Best Song Ever” on my way to work. That jam sesh is best kept to private car time.)
We danced like our limbs were made of jelly. (I’m lookin’ at you, Harry). And we felt safe.
We don’t talk enough We should open up Before it’s all too much Will we ever learn? We’ve been here before It’s just what we know
Then, just like that, after performing almost every song on his first solo album (with a female drummer and keyboard player, I might add), after playing what sounded like a Harry Styles cover of the Rolling Stones covering the One Direction hit “What Makes Your Beautiful,” after the necessary sporadic crowd banter and acoustic set on Stage B, our little bubble was about to burst.
You’re insecure Don’t know what for
You’re turning heads when you walk through the door
Don’t need make-up, to cover up
Being the way that you are is enough
An admittedly altitude-winded Styles invited the crowd to “just go for it the last five minutes.”
And go for it we did. The night ended with his banger “Kiwi,” and Styles’ signature swivels and shivers were in full effect. He poured water onto the crowd below; we let our limbs fly as if independent from our bodies. We went for it.
Then it was over. The lights were immediately turned back on, Lyfts took us back to the real world. Maybe some people went back to not feeling so safe, so welcome or so free.
But we deserve to feel the way we feel at concerts all the time. The way the music makes us feel, the happiness it brings and the freedom we seem to muster up under the darkness and strobe lights — even if just for a few minutes.
So I’m going to remind myself to “just go for it” for five minutes a day, and I’m challenging you to do the same. Set an alarm on your phone and label it “Go for it” if you have to. For five minutes a day, check in with yourself and make sure you do something that makes you feel warm and welcome.
Do what that gold-bloused, follicly-blessed, free-spirited Harry Styles would want us to do. If at least just for five minutes.