“Music expresses that which cannot be put into words and that which cannot remain silent.”
Victor Hugo:
Image generated with the assistance of Microsoft Copilot
I saw you at the Andre Rieu concert in Tel Aviv crying. I saw you at Runrig’s 2018 concert crying when the Islay Glasgow Gaelic Choir sung Cearcal a’ Chuin with Donnie Monroe. I saw you at the Andre Rieu concert crying to Highland Cathedral and I saw you crying your eyes out to Plasear d amour. And guess what? I did likewise.
Have you ever found yourself sitting at a concert, eyes welling up with tears, or noticed someone else sobbing quietly during a song? Maybe their tears set you off too, and suddenly you’re sharing an emotional moment with complete strangers, even from our tv screens It’s a curious thing, isn’t it? Why does music—something so intangible—hold the power to move us to tears? Let’s explore this together.
There’s something about music that bypasses logic. It doesn’t need to explain itself—it simply touches the deepest parts of us. At a concert, when your favourite song plays, it’s not just sound; it’s an experience. A melody can unlock memories, a lyric can speak your truth, and the energy of a live performance can amplify emotions you didn’t know you had bottled up.
Think about the last time you heard a song that took you back to a specific moment in your life. Maybe it reminded you of a lost loved one, a first love, or even a time when you overcame something difficult. That’s the power of music—it connects us to our stories.
Concerts aren’t just about music; they’re about being part of something bigger. Look around at the crowd. Thousands of people, all from different walks of life, are singing along to the same lyrics. For a few hours, you’re not alone in your feelings.
This shared experience is what makes concerts so unique. The collective energy, the cheering, the swaying—it's like everyone is holding hands, even if they’re strangers. When we cry at concerts, it’s often because we feel seen and understood in that moment of connection.
Have you ever noticed how contagious emotions can be? Someone in the row ahead wipes away a tear, and suddenly, you’re choking up too. There’s a reason for this: our brains are wired to empathize. Scientists call it mirror neurons—the little brain cells that let us feel what others feel.
When we see someone else overcome with emotion, it reminds us of our own vulnerabilities. Their tears might not even be about the same thing, but it doesn’t matter. In that moment, their raw, unfiltered humanity speaks to yours.
Sometimes, crying at a concert isn’t about the song or the crowd—it’s about you. Life gets heavy. We carry stress, grief, or even joy that we haven’t fully processed. Music has this way of unlocking those emotions.
Concerts create a safe space for that release. No one’s judging you for tearing up during a ballad or clapping through the tears during an encore. It’s cathartic, like a weight lifted off your chest.
There’s also the awe factor. Have you ever watched a truly breath-taking performance and thought, how is this even possible? Whether it’s the talent of the artist, the beauty of the music, or the overwhelming realization that you are part of something extraordinary, awe has a way of spilling out as tears.
Ultimately, crying at concerts is a testament to how deeply human we are. We’re emotional creatures, moved by beauty, connection, and shared experiences. Tears remind us that beneath all the roles we play—parent, worker, friend—we’re just people trying to make sense of life and feel something real.
So, the next time you find yourself crying at a concert—or crying because someone else is—embrace it. It’s not just about the music; it’s about being alive, fully and completely, in that moment.