The PixiesI’ve been going to music festivals since I was eight years

The PixiesI’ve been going to music festivals since I was eight years old (thanks, Dad), but the all-time worst thing that’s ever happened to me at a concert — festival or otherwise — occurred just before the Pixies came onstage at Coachella 2004, one of the first stops on the band’s first reunion tour. You see, I’d been waiting at the main stage for hours to reserve myself a good spot near the front (my friends, who weren’t diehard Pixies fans like myself, had chosen not to accompany me); since I was seven when the band broke up, I was absolutely determined to get a good look at Kim Deal. But just before the Pixies were scheduled to take the stage, some drunk meathead burst through the wall of people in front of me and hurled at my feet, splattering my shoes and shins with regurgitated Coors. I entertained the notion of going to rinse my feet off at the free water spigot, but knew that the band could come on any second, and that chances of being able to part the vast Red Sea of bodies behind me were slim. I stayed, and I’m still glad I did: the band came on five minutes later, and I never would’ve made it back to where I was before the end of the set. To this day, I feel that I made the right decision — and missing the band this week (both shows are sold out, but there are plenty of reasonably-priced tickets for sale on Craigslist) would be utterly foolish. Now that another of my all-time favorite bands, Pavement, has reunited and will be making an appearance at Sasquatch this year, I’ve been thinking a lot about whether or not I’d make the same decision for Pavement. And the answer is yes: If I absolutely had to, I would watch Pavement’s set covered in someone else’s vomit. But what I want to know is, would you? What indignities would you endure to see the band(s) you love best?