Will you catch me if I'm falling

I know, I know, it's a cliched song to freak out over. Oh well.

I'm standing on the lawn at SPAC, to which thousands of others have flocked to take in the spectacle, and I'm giddy. Beyond giddy. Think of a small child so excited and overjoyed that she can't express it. Instead, she stands still - hushed so as to not ruin the moment.

It's "Round Here." Adam Duritz is so far into his own head (seemingly moreso than usual, if you can believe it) that he's just spouting. He's going off into tangents that have stretched the song out into a glorious improvisation.

The moment is poignant and exhilerating all at once, and I can feel the joys and disappointments that have come over a short period of time fight each other, racing to get to the surface first. There's nowhere I'd rather be at that moment than under a hazy summer sky, standing on the grass with flouresent lights dimly burning off to my side, listening to someone wrench the emotions out of his mind and into the microphone...but at the same point, I can feel my heart breaking bit by bit as he continues on.

Few musicians or bands can tear my heart out. Counting Crows does it every single goddamn time. I just want it to stop...but not really. I just want Adam to keep on going. I want the band to keep him going.

I can feel the energy in the crowd, how they've been taking in the band's performance and are ready to give the proper, sungalong approval. We are all waiting to wail away with "round here we stay up very, very, very, very late."

I'm ready to belt out the words myself. But I don't want this moment to go away.

I mean, uh, yeah. Caught Counting Crows tonight and they, er, were pretty OK.

You know.

Whatever.

Sigh.