FRONT ROW. CENTRE STAGE.
Some concerts play the songs. Others take you somewhere.
There are concerts you go to because you want to hear some music. And then there are nights that unexpectedly take you somewhere - back to the first car you owned, the cassette deck you thought sounded incredible, Friday nights with nowhere in particular to go, and FM radio cranked loud enough that the neighbours knew exactly what you were listening to.
For a couple of hours, PRiSM took us there. And I had probably the best seat in the house: front row, centre stage. Close enough to hear the amps breathe. Close enough to watch the musicians interact without staring at a video screen. Close enough to remember what a real rock show is supposed to feel like.
No filters. No algorithms. Just guitars, drums, keyboards, Marshall stacks, lights - and some of the most recognizable songs to ever come out of Canadian rock radio.
When that unmistakable PRiSM logo lit up behind the stage, you knew exactly what was coming. This wasn't going to be a quiet night.
