Concert Experience Morphs into Art Favorite

In October, I had the mind-blowing experience of seeing Alice in Chains in concert.  Since then, I’ve been describing that show as “a spiritual experience” to anyone who will listen. A typical reaction to my statement is a look of general confusion, followed by, “so was it good?”

Now I don’t typically go around describing my daily activities as spiritual experiences. And maybe spiritual is an imprecise word to describe how the music, lights and crowd energized my soul. In fact, I have been putting off this very blog post since October because I can’t seem find the words to describe it—a rare occurrence, indeed.

For me, Alice in Chains’ music has always been a cathartic experience. The hypnotic guitars and pain-filled lyrics—amplified further by Layne Staley’s catatonic, yet snarling vocals—were a soothing balm to my teenage angst and were a key inspiration to my own poetry. Whereas Nine Inch Nails provided an outlet for my anger, Alice in Chains provided an outlet for my sorrow.

It was hard not to be skeptical as I purchased the tickets. Is Alice in Chains really Alice in Chains without Layne Staley? The answer, for me, is a resounding YES, although some disagree.

The fact is that Staley died in 2002 and had distanced himself from the band years prior. The band mourned—obvious by listening to the 2009 release of “Black Gives Way to Blue” as well as Jerry Cantrell’s solo work. But Staley’s spirit lives on in the songs from “Facelift,” “Sap,” “Dirt,” “Jar of Flies,” and “Alice in Chains.” Let’s not forget that Cantrell wrote and sang at least half of those albums and remains the band’s heart and soul. And even though it makes me unpopular with other Alice in Chains purists, William DuVall is fabulous on vocals by just being himself.

But, I digress.

Alice in Chains is quite possibly the best band I have every seen live. The energy I took from that show sustained me for months, and, even writing this post now, I can feel the excitement of that night thumbing through me.

As I was swept up in the power of the music, I wanted a memento of the evening—something more personal, more powerful than a T-shirt (although I got that too).  The image below was originally taken with my phone from my not-so-great seat. The image itself—blurry and underexposed—was worthless. The Photoshop rendering of it, however, has become one of my personal favorites.