My first time attending a Federation United Concert Series (FUCS) show, I walked into Lunt Basement with no expectations. I hadn’t even looked up the bands playing beforehand. And as it turned out, neither of them were genres I’m particularly into. But something about the energy and passion in the room made me want to come back for more— which I did, for the next two shows of the semester. And every time, I’ve left with the feeling that I had experienced something entirely different from the concerts I’ve been to before.
FUCS is, as Dex Coen Gilbert (Haverford ’21) put it, “much more than a coarse acronym.” Founded in 2002, the student-booked concert series at Haverford has a roster of impressive names as veterans— Alex G, Vampire Weekend, and The Mountain Goats, to name a few. But though I can’t say the idea of seeing future famous musicians “before they blew up” isn’t appealing, what I believe is valuable about FUCS comes from a sensibility opposite to chasing fame.
Online especially, fan spaces for musical artists tend to cultivate the artist as a figure larger than life— both super-human and in-human, subjects of both worship and invasions of privacy. Not without reason, there are constant reminders of the power imbalance in any interaction between a famous artist and their fans, and the issues that can arise for both when that relationship becomes parasocial (a sense of intimacy with someone you don’t know). But at FUCS shows, artists and bands are generally small, and while some may be fans already, many come without knowing or expecting anything in particular and therefore bring less pressure. Artists don’t have to put up a barricade— literal and metaphorical— between themselves and their listeners. At one show, Audrey Keelin, the lead singer/songwriter of the band Hiding Places, struck up a conversation with myself and a friend as we browsed the merch table, asking us about our own creative interests. Here, audiences and artists are simply people engaging in creativity, and sometimes, community. Plus, since many performers are based in Philadelphia, going to FUCS shows is an easy way to experience the local music scene.
None of this is to discredit the big (or simply more “professional”) concert experience, which can be powerful in its own right. But it’s easy to forget that music comes in many forms; that there was a time before recorded music and vast networks of fans and Ticketmaster. Live music was, and still is, a source of sustenance and real connection. This is why I also appreciate that FUCS shows are free to Tri-Co students, making them accessible and easy to take a chance on, rather than something to spend on rarely due to high ticket prices. Like “Bread and Roses”, a staple of the Bryn Mawr songbook, reminds us, experiencing the arts should be both everyday and essential.
