Lights flashed, Pitbull’s voice blared through the microphone, people were jumping up and down and I couldn’t hear anyone next to me. Onstage, cannons blasted white gas into the air and confetti fell over the crowd. The concert was everything I had hoped it would be.
Though I had never been to a concert before, I thought I had a good idea of what it would be like; I had seen enough photos and videos on social media. But watching a concert on screen could not compare to the real experience.
When I heard Pitbull was performing at Shoreline Amphitheatre on his “I Feel Good” tour on Sept. 26 with Iggy Azalea as his opening act, I was absolutely ecstatic. Who doesn’t love Pitbull’s music? My generation grew up listening to him, so I knew that attending the concert with my friends and seeing Mr. Worldwide in the flesh would be an unforgettable experience.
Turning from the highway onto the exit for the concert, all of the cars around us were blasting Pitbull’s music with their windows down. I could hardly contain my excitement — everything felt so surreal in the moments leading up to the concert.
The lines to enter stretched all the way around the Shoreline. Thousands of people flooded into the stands, all standing on their toes, excited for the rest of the night. Loud music and flashing lights were the first glimpse I got of the excitement to come.
After we found our seats, the amphitheater went silent and dark. Suddenly, bright orange, green, and purple lights beamed toward the stage. Iggy Azalea stood less than 50 yards away, right in front of my eyes. The crowd burst into a cheer and the mood of everyone in the amphitheatre lifted, especially during her final song, “Fancy.”
Still, I was eager to see the main act. Pitbull’s famous song “International Love” kept replaying in my head and I was ready to scream along to his songs the moment he took the stage. It was just a matter of time before Mr. 305 would be in Iggy’s spot — or so I thought.
For almost an hour, a member of the stage crew acted as DJ and played a variety of random songs — none of which were by Pitbull and most of which I didn’t know — trying to keep the same energy among the crowd as during Iggy’s performance.
People were beginning to get frustrated. We paid to see Pitbull on stage, not a member of his stage crew. Several angry cries rose from the crowd and people began leaving the amphitheatre to get food and drinks because of how boring the stage crew was.
Then the lights turned off. The big curtain fell to the ground and a bright light shined on the 5’ 7’’ man standing on stage with his trademark aviator sunglasses.
As soon as his song “Don’t Stop the Party” blared out from the speakers, I completely forgot about his hour late arrival to the show. Everyone sprang out of their seats, screaming at the top of their lungs. The song lineup was in the perfect order and every track had me singing along at the top of my lungs, especially “Hotel Room Service” and “Time of our Lives.”
At the end of his final song, white confetti burst out of cannons on the front stage. The music was so loud that I couldn’t hear what my friends were saying. Walking out of the concert, it finally hit me that this incredible experience was over. I was left with a persistent ringing in my ears and an extremely sore throat, but at least I can finally say, “believe me, been there done that.”