Last week I attended a live performance by the band Daughter at The Depot in Salt Lake City. If you don't know who Daughter is, and you want to (you definitely should), then check out this other article I wrote a while back.
I've been to a good handful of shows in my time. Though each experience involves some degree of dehydration and standing on my feet for at least four hours, it also involves a very strangely energetic feeling. I didn't have a name to put to this feeling until relatively recently. It's called collective effervescence. You know how much I like to define things, so let's go.
French sociologist Émile Durkheim coined the term and compiled the ideas behind it. According to the Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy, "During these moments [of collective effervescence], the group comes together and communicates in the same thought and participates in the same action, which serves to unify a group of individuals. When individuals come into close contact with one another and when they are assembled in such a fashion, a certain 'electricity' is created and released, leading participants to a high degree of collective emotional excitement...This impersonal, extra-individual force...transports the individuals into a new, ideal realm, lifts them up outside of themselves, and makes them feel as if they are in contact with an extraordinary energy."
I know it sounds dramatic, but I don't think that means it isn't true. When Durkheim spoke about collective effervescence, he was generally referring to religious rituals and gatherings. However, I believe it also applies to different aspects of life. You know, such as live musical performances. Think of it -- a room full of people seeing the same things, hearing the same things, feeling the same things -- particularly with a band like Daughter and their deeply profound lyrics, haunting melodies and emotionally charged instrumentation. Some recent research has shown that this experience of collective effervescence can "lead to the synchronization of heartbeats between practitioners as well as spectators."
This energy was particularly tangible to me during one particular moment at the show. During the song "Youth," the voices in the room united to sing: "We are the reckless / We are the wild youth / Chasing visions of our futures / One day we'll reveal the truth / That one will die before he gets there / And if you're still bleeding you're the lucky ones / 'Cause most of our feelings, they are dead and they are gone / We're setting fire to our insides for fun."
I know the lyrics are pretty bleak, but that's the point. These experiences provide a healthy outlet for these emotions. Though it may not seem that way, expressing these emotions and empathizing with others, through music in a room full of strangers, is an extremely effective way -- at least in my experience -- to feel something better.
Pretty fascinating stuff, huh? If you're interested, then you can read more about collective effervescence by clicking here.
