The importance of live gigs is a tricky one. Sometimes, depending on the band, the idea of, ‘the greatest gig’ varies significantly. The Sex Pistols surely hadn’t the slightest clue their debut in Manchester’s Free Trade Hall would be the one that everybody remembers them by; a gig that catalysed the punk ethos, the penetration and permanence of a genre etching its face into nearly everything we do and see today. Yet, compare that to say Oasis at Knebworth; the approach is much more different. The lads (key words: lads, working-class, casual), had every intention of creating a spectacular event, more of a circus than another gig on the circuit; playing to a thick slice of England that accumulated in masses of crying men and manly women to be seduced by a band at the peak of their powers. However, despite the fact these gigs took place in the past; doesn’t minimize the fact they live in; strong in memories, black and white photographs and fan-told tales that archive and document their gigs, in their own ways. One cannot be alone in thinking that band’s must now recognize how the shift in band’s associated with generations and their rightful gap is becoming bigger. How bands, need to address the fact, that the kids of today, will remember their faces; fronting magazines, on talk-shows, headlining festivals, performing at gigs theirs to attend, to watch and to be inspired by.

Kasabian then, Saturday 21st June 2014, put on, packed out and played Leicester’s Victoria Park. Summer Solstice was an event described by the band as, ‘their Knebworth.’ A term most bands might compare to their crowning moment as survivors, as victors in a market money-driven, sugar-coated and competition-prioritized, where all things rock, roll and such things are fabricated, forgotten. Kasabian’s nod to the place they were born and raised, establishes them as a band that can and will continue to conquer the world. Paying homage to their local hometown is a perfect way to confirm them as kids, grown up guided by Definitely Maybe more than daytime television, escaping such a place before returning to reclaim what is theirs, the city. 50,000 people, alive and well and wanting more after every song, can’t possibly attend such a climax and not leave feeling like they’ve witnessed one of the greatest band’s of their time enter the room that recognizes their faces for good. Arctic Monkeys with Finsbury Park in London, Editors at Birmingham Academy or the Courteeners at the Castlefield Bowl in Manchester; bands once indie tadpoles who have adapted to the climate that created them. Stadiums will always exist sure, but maybe bands have a duty to fill them. An ambition sourced at the thought of watching their favourite bands play themselves. Intimacy running high, sunshine beaming, people smiling, nothing can go wrong when you have the mentality of making things happen, because you have literally witnessed a piece of the world change.

It is the gigs, no matter how big, that make the bands. Think of gigs as congregations, ceremonies, or weekends spent sleepless knowing that one day when their kids, or grandchildren attend a Kasabian, Monkeys, Editors, or Courteeners gig lightyears from now; the fans who flocked the floodgates of venues big enough to be festivals, can say, with pride, they have seen them. Planned or unpredicted these shows may be, getting lost in moments you know are bound to be timeless, hit-packed and heartfelt, will last the longest against gigs that lack spirit, soul, and confidence. Gigs are aspects to people’s lives that live on. No matter how much technology attempts to digitize the entire experience of getting up and going out; the live show, the whole package (one too many, missed trains, dead phones, late nights, new friends) is what makes the memories what they are.