Devil’s Music

Thursday afternoon, two o'clock.

Excitement fluttering in Geon's chest, he, wearing a hat, ventured into Chicago's Grand Park with Carlos, donning a mask, to find the venue for the inaugural day of the Lolapalooza Festival. As expected of an outdoor standing concert, the audience, having secured prime spots by setting up tents since the night before, gathered in front of the stage after organizing their belongings.

Geon and his companions disembarked from Carlos's Rolls-Royce Silver Shadow. Remastered from the 1977 model, the car attracted attention as it traversed the streets. However, passersby, unaware of Carlos Santana and Rob Thomas appearing on a bustling street, merely saw a wealthy man disembarking, so there was no significant commotion.

Observing the entrance to Chicago's Grand Park, Geon exclaimed with excitement, "Wow! There are so many people! Must be tens of thousands, Carlos!"

Adjusting his hat, Carlos nodded and remarked, "They say the ticket prices are $100 for a day pass (about 100,000 won) and $250 for a three-day pass (approximately 250,000 won). Sold out. Even the package deals for $4,615 for all four days are gone too. With 300,000 tickets issued, it implies an average daily audience of over 100,000."

Rob, adjusting his mask, cautioned Geon, "K, you might be fine, but if we get exposed, we'd be done for. There are no guards today, so don't draw unnecessary attention. Got it?"

Geon chuckled mischievously. "Really? Shall we relieve some stress accumulated from the past five days of practice? Everyone! Over here—woohoo!"

Before Geon could make a sound, Rob covered his mouth and pulled him back. "Cut it out! I'm serious! Even if that's true for me, you'll get Carlos killed! This gentleman is over 70, and if he gets heckled a few times, he might actually perish!"

Even as Geon was being pulled by Rob with his mouth covered, he playfully eyed him and, seeing Rob chuckle, relented, lowering his hand.

"Let's just watch the Muse performance. Other bands are good too, but they're the ones we should really pay attention to."

Geon made a gesture, smiling with his eyes, while closing his mouth.

"Why did someone who's only here for Muse come at two o'clock? Their performance is at 8 pm, haha."

After looking intently at Geon, Rob scratched the back of his head and said, "Seems I've been too casual with this guy. Turns out, he's really affable?"

Carlos raised his hat slightly and chuckled, "Being cheerful is fine. What's the problem? Ah, I hear a guitar. Looks like the show's starting. Let's go."

And so, the three entered Chicago's Grand Park.

Being still daytime, about ten thousand audience members had gathered in front of the stage. Despite being a considerably large park, with around ten thousand people, it barely seemed enough to fill the space in front of the stage. Rob and Carlos settled halfway down an incline, lying partially on their sides.

As Rob stood up from the hillside, he said, "I'll get some beers. Festivals must have booze. Carlos, what do you want?"

Lying down, Carlos replied, "Why ask? Have you seen me drink anything other than tequila? Check if they have 1800 Anejo; if not, any Reposado will do."

After being asked, Geon, in typical Asian fashion, stood up together and said, "I'm not of legal drinking age yet. Let's go get them, Rob."

Rob laughed, raised his hand for a high-five, and said, "Indeed, we should hang out with the young ones! Always with the old man, all he does is drink too much, Carlos! You're always sipping tequila; you'll end up in trouble. If you want a drink, go easy like me with beer."

As Carlos seemed displeased and gestured, Rob glanced at Geon, signaling to leave. A while later, with two bottles of tequila and three hot dogs, Geon and Rob sat on the incline, starting to enjoy the show.

On stage, a stylishly dressed African American, wearing a cap backward, was checking the microphone. Audience members, swaying to the resonating hip-hop beats from the amplifiers, gradually immersed themselves in the music. Taking a bite of his hot dog, Geon asked Rob, "Who's that guy? He's not from a band, is he?"

Sipping his beer, Rob replied, "Oh, he's famous lately. He's a rapper called 'Big Sean.'"

Carlos, deeply flipping his cap, raised it slightly and said, "Didn't he sign with Kanye West?"

Rob nodded in agreement. Shortly after, the impressive hip-hop performance by 'Big Sean' unfolded, and Geon, excited, exclaimed, "Hip-hop is amazing! The energy is overflowing. I'm unintentionally feeling the rhythm too."

Carlos, now standing with his arms crossed, remarked, "People naturally respond to great music, regardless of the genre. Rob, who's up next?"

Rob took out a folded brochure from his pocket and pointed with his finger. "Next is 'Kaskade,' and after that, 'Gramatik.'"

Carlos, looking at Rob with a quizzical expression, asked, "Gramatik? Kaskade is a producer, so he might perform as a DJ. What about Gramatik?"

Stuffing the paper into his back pocket, Rob replied, "He's described as a hybrid EDM DJ."

Carlos, lying back down with his cap covering his face, said, "Alright, wake me up when Muse takes the stage, I don't care much about this."

And with that, Carlos dozed off. Rob, looking down at him, shrugged at Geon.

"He's never interested in the DJ side of things. Funny, right? He's the one who invites DJs for his own music but dislikes attending their performances. Especially after Andy got into that accident at an EDM show, the lectures have been endless."

Geon nodded understandingly, "Well, Latin rock is his expertise, so it might be why."

Rob chuckled, tapping his finger.

"It's not true, K. If rock musicians weren't interested in other music apart from rock, it would decay on its own, like stagnant water. Musicians like Carlos, they'll listen even if they're not interested. They could be sound asleep but would wake up at the sound of good music."

Geon glanced at Carlos, lying sprawled out, with a reverent gaze. Despite looking like the owner of Los Amigos in Itaewon, he truly seemed like a world-renowned rock musician.

As the two EDM stages concluded, the surroundings dimmed. Suddenly, over 80,000 spectators filled the standing section beneath the stage at Chicago's Grand Park. It was nearing the time for today's main performance. When Rob spotted the members of Muse coming onto the stage, he nudged Carlos with his foot.

"Carlos, Muse is up."

Whether Carlos had been in a deep slumber or just tossing and turning, he instantly woke up and gulped down tequila. Rob shook his head at Carlos, chuckling, while Geon, smiling, looked between Carlos and Rob.

"Muse, weren't they goddesses in Greek mythology?"

Rob shook his head in response.

"No, Muse isn't just one person. It's a collective term for nine goddesses inspiring arts and sciences. It might be a bit ambitious to use it as a band name, don't you think?"

Geon observed Muse, getting ready, and remarked, "Creating such a rich sound with just three people. They're someone I'd love to see in person at least once."

Rob, eyes fixed on the stage, added, "That's right. Since the Nirvana era, there's been a belief that alternative bands with three members are the coolest. Even the vocalist, Matthew Bellamy, mentioned being influenced by Kurt Cobain."

As the performance began,

Geon, experiencing a rock concert for the first time in his life, was captivated.

Lost in the music, drenched in sweat, he leaped in the air, shouting, "Rock is truly the best!"

Rob, watching him, shook his head in amusement.

"Hey, are you making a face that Sharon would find upsetting?"

Geon, suddenly stiffening, thought of Sharon but then smiled bashfully.

"But isn't the emotional impact of different music and rock music different?"

Carlos nodded, arms folded.

"Yes, the excitement from rock music is incomparable. But it doesn't mean rock music is the ultimate emotional experience, K. Music feels different based on the listener's emotions and situation. In the end, genres don't matter. It's about listening to what feels good or what you want to hear at that moment."

Geon agreed, nodding.

"Right, Carlos. That's absolutely right."

Rob looked at them, bemused.

"Someone might mistake you for a music sage. Look at Carlos here. Ease up a bit. We need to give a better performance than them. You're Santana, Santana!"

After glancing at Rob, Carlos focused on the stage and said, "Of course, that's how it should be. But, musicians speak through their music. Once the music reaches the audience, it's up to them to judge. Rob, it's not about you being nervous; just focus on our performance."

Suddenly remembering something, Rob turned to Geon.

"By the way, K, when you practice, you just stand there and sing? Musicians do speak through music, but showcasing actions on stage is part of the live entertainment."

Geon scratched his cheek, looking awkward.

"Well... it feels a bit odd for me. That's why it doesn't come naturally."

Carlos patted Geon's back, reassuringly saying, "K, think about why musicians raise their hands or exaggerate movements while singing?"

After a moment of contemplation, Geon replied, "To amplify emotional expression? To widen the spectrum of emotions conveyed to the listener or viewer through exaggerated gestures."

Rob chuckled, seemingly expecting that.

"This fool. Where do you find such musicians? That's more like what an amateur band would think. A true musician expresses themselves through movements, intoxicated by the emotions their music brings."

Geon asked, surprised, "Really? Intoxicated by their own music?"

Carlos, looking serious, turned to Geon.

"K, if you're not moved by your own song, you won't move the audience. And no one will dance to a song that doesn't excite you either."

>

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