Photo by Heidi Larson

In the winter of 2019 (before life went virtual), Carl Christensen was unknowingly ahead of the game. In an online-only collab, he asked his IG fanbase for material to inspire new songs. One fan sent in a DM detailing the story that became his latest single, “Four Friends Go to a Show.” (To protect the fan’s identity, Christensen refers to her in the song as Phoebe, after Phoebe Bridgers.)

“She had come to one of my shows,” Christensen told DT, “and while the band was playing she realized she was in love with someone on stage, but that person would never feel the same way towards her.”

When Christensen wrote “Four Friends Go to a Show” he couldn’t have known that in three months the world would come to a standstill and live music would evaporate. But alas, it did, and in his submission to DT, Christensen said he hoped this song might someday be someone’s “going back to live shows anthem.”

The first half of the track could be just that. It opens with a ringing, rhythmic guitar that’s quickly joined by Christensen’s crackly, Bright-Eyes-esque voice. The drums enter, the pace builds, and the mood of Christensen’s scene is nostalgic and exciting as the story begins with four friends getting hyped for a show. They share a taxi to the venue, where they join the pre-show crowd.

The first hint of trouble comes about halfway through the track when Phoebe goes to the front of the stage with her friend. Christensen sings, “Phoebe tells herself in through your nose and out through your mouth / Then she smells him.” From there, as Phoebe spirals into emotional turmoil, we learn her ex is part of the band — and that one of her friends had warned her he would be there. Yet, beside her as she panics, “Julie’s dancing and oblivious.” The persistent drums, driving guitar, and steady vocals that gave the beginning of the track its sense of excitement suddenly feel overwhelming, rushing headlong into Phoebe’s panic without the reprieve of a traditional chorus or bridge. The song ends abruptly in the middle of this emotional chaos after the repeated line, “He was never even yours to begin with.”

There’s so much about this track and Phoebe’s experience that I relate to. I know the feeling of panic when you realize you’re not actually ready for the situation you’ve just walked into (“Julie had warned her he’d be here tonight / But she had shrugged it off, said it’ll be fine / We’re both adults and it’s been a long time”). I know all the phrases Phoebe uses to try to talk herself down and make her feelings small enough to handle (“Don’t be ridiculous / He was never even yours to begin with”). And, unfortunately, I know those friends: The ones who are willing to knowingly walk a friend into an emotional hazard zone then stand heedlessly beside them in the crowd, rather than risk endangering their evening out by checking in. (Am I projecting on Phoebe’s friend, Julie, who warns her about her ex then drags her to the front of the stage? Probably. Hello, Toonie Tuesday at The Cliffside!)

With “Four Friends Go to a Show,” Christensen has very successfully recreated a scene that is in many ways nostalgic (I miss that pre-show excitement so much) — but will also be horribly familiar to many people I know in the music community, especially women. While I can appreciate the song for its relatability, it won’t be my “going back to live shows anthem” because nights like Phoebe’s are nights I want to leave in the Before Times. When the world reopens we will have a unique opportunity to reimagine our live music culture. My hope is that we can take the opportunity to change our community for the better by normalizing solidarity with ourselves and our friends.