raverr
I go to shows alone more than people assume. Sometimes the friends fell through. Sometimes I wanted one set and I did not want a committee. I have been doing a version of this since the '90s, including weekends I camped without a crew and had to be my own way home. Solo is not a stunt. It is a plan with fewer group texts, and it can be a better night if you let it be ordinary.
You do not need a bit, a costume, or a reason. You need a way in, a way out, ears you are protecting, and one person in the regular world who knows where you are. The music does not check whether you brought a plus-one.
Tell someone boring before you tell the room
Text a friend who is not going. Venue, roughly when you will be done, how you are getting home. If you are camping, name the camp and the day you expect to be back on a normal schedule. That message feels parental. It is also the one I want existing if my phone dies or the night runs long. Update them if the plan changes in a way that matters. You do not owe them a review of the opener.
Look at the ticket, the door time, and the bag rules on the venue's own page. I am not going to guess what they will take at security this month. Screenshot the thing you need if your signal is usually bad in that neighborhood. Charge the phone. Bring a small battery if you have one. A dead phone is how a simple solo night becomes a long conversation with a rideshare you cannot request.
The pocket list
ID, a card, a way home, earplugs in a case, and a key that is not in a jacket you might lose. I keep the plugs in a pocket I can find in the dark, and a spare pair if the floor is the kind that eats things. Put the plugs in before the set you care about. Solo does not make the stacks quieter. If your ears ring, hurt, or sound muffled after you leave and that does not fade, see a doctor or an audiologist. I am not that visit.
Wear shoes you have already suffered in. Closed toes. You may stand longer than you would with a restless friend tugging you to the bar. A tee you can sweat in, and a layer for the line and the parking lot. If the layer is one of our hoodies, they run small, so size up before you count on moving your arms. The wider wall is bass music apparel if you are still deciding what the back should say. The back is optional. The shoes are not.
A small zip bag on your front beats a backpack you cannot see. In a crowd, I want my stuff in front of my body. I do not leave a drink unattended, and I do not take one I did not watch get poured. That is true with friends. It is simply more true when nobody is watching your cup while you tie a shoe.
Where to stand when you do not have a crew
You can stand wherever you want, which is the luxury. I like a spot with a clear step back: the side of the floor, a rise, the edge of a pit, not the exact center if I am unsure of the room. I can see the booth, I can leave for water, and I am not the person trapped because four friends formed a wall. If a pocket of headbanging opens up and I want it, I step in. If I want the song without the elbows, I stay on the shoulder of it. Both are full nights.
Pick a landmark even though you came alone. A merch wall, a sign, a corner. If you get turned around, or if you do end up talking to someone and you split for a song, you have a place to reset. "I will just find the sound" is how you do a lap of a dark room and miss the one track you came for. The landmark is for you first.
The tee I wear when being seen is useful, even on a solo night, is Lost My Friends, Found The Drop. Big cream letters over a laser-lit crowd across the back, and a small sloth in headphones on the chest, because the words are there to be read. You may not have friends in the building. You might make a temporary one, or you might just want the bartender, the medic, or the door to understand you are a person with a sense of humor about the situation. Wear something plain if you would rather be furniture. I do that too. It is a mood, not a failure.
Talking to people without making it a project
You can go the whole night without a conversation and have a perfect time. I have. If you do want a little company, keep it about the room. A nod at the drop, a short comment between songs, a "have you seen this artist before." Then leave space. A person who answers in one syllable and turns back to the stage is done. Believe them the first time. You are not owed a new friend because you bought a ticket alone.
The same goes the other way. You can end a chat. "I am going to go hear this from the side" is a complete sentence. You do not have to invent a fake friend in the bathroom. If someone will not let the chat end, move toward staff, toward a brighter spot, toward the door. Trust the feeling early. Solo is not a dare to be endlessly available.
Holding a spot is a personality I like, and the hoodie for it is Hold My Totem, I Gotta Wub One Out. A sloth in headphones on a speaker. It is a plain way of saying you might leave for water and you might come back to the same patch of floor. The sloth is also the small chest mark on every hoodie we make, so if you are meeting someone you do know later, you have given them a second clue. Arrange that meetup with a place and a time. "Somewhere in there" is how solo-plus-a-friend becomes two people at the same show and not together.
Leaving, rides, and the after
Decide the exit before the headliner, not during the encore you cannot hear. Where is the car, the train, the rideshare pin. What time that option gets worse. I would rather miss the last song and make the train than win the encore and solve transportation on a cold sidewalk with a dying battery. If you drove, know the lot. If you are drinking, the ride is already chosen and you are not renegotiating it in the room.
You are allowed to leave in the middle. A set that is not yours, a crowd that got too tight, a body that is done. Solo makes this easier, which is the secret nobody puts on a flyer. There is no committee to disappoint. Walk out, get water, get air, go home, sleep. The recording will exist or it will not. Your Tuesday matters more.
Afters are optional. If you go, tell that friend in the regular world. Keep the same drink rule. Keep the plugs if the system is still a system. I skip them when my ears are already complaining. There is no second prize for extending a night your hearing is finished with.
If solo means camping, not just a club
A solo club night is a pocket and a ride. A solo camping weekend is a small household. You are the person who finds the tent, the water plan, the light, and the morning. Walk the route in daylight. Do not cut through other camps. Read the event site for rules instead of trusting a stranger's confident tour at the gate. I have camped alone, and I have camped at Burning Man long enough to know the glamorous version is mostly chores you do before the music.
Those chores have a home that is not a t-shirt shop. The camp kit, the part that is stakes and sleep and shade rather than the shirt on your back, lives at our sister shop Burner Supply. I send solo campers there when the question is the camp. I keep the show question here: shoes, ears, a landmark, a way home, a back your people can read if people show up.
Shop questions, if you are buying the layer before you go, sit on the FAQ. The venue's questions sit on the venue's site. I am cheerful about the difference.
A solo night that stays simple
- Text someone your plan and your way home
- Broken-in shoes, earplugs, ID, battery, key
- A spot you can step back from, plus a landmark
- No drink you did not watch, no bag you cannot see
- Permission to leave when the night stops being yours
The first solo show feels like you forgot something because your friends are the something. You did not forget them. You just get to hear the set without managing them. Stand where it sounds good. Nod if that is your body. Go home when you said you would, or text if you will not. That is the whole skill, and it gets easier every time the committee stays on the couch.
Raverr is independent. We are not affiliated with or endorsed by any artist, label, or event.
Here for the fun side? See Happy Raver: aliens, sloths and wubs.
Shop the gear from this guide: rave hoodies for cold nights and the walk home, and rave shirts for the floor.
FAQ
Is it weird to go to a bass show alone?
No. People do it all the time, including me. Tell a friend your plan, wear shoes you trust, bring earplugs, and pick a spot you can leave. You do not need a crew to hear the set.
Where should I stand if I do not know anyone?
Choose a place with a clear step back, often the side or a rise, where you can see and get out for water. You can move closer if you want the density. Pick a landmark so you can reset if you get turned around.
How do I talk to people without it being awkward?
Keep it short and about the music, then leave space. If they turn back to the stage, let that be the end. You can also skip the conversation entirely and still have a good night. You can end a chat whenever you want.
What should I bring when I am going solo?
ID, a way to pay, a charged phone or a battery, earplugs, your key, and broken-in closed-toe shoes. Keep your bag in front of you. Do not take a drink you did not watch get poured. Check the venue's bag rules before you pack a bunch of extras.
What if I want to leave early?
Leave. Solo means you do not have to negotiate the exit. Know your ride or your car before the headliner, and text the friend who has your plan if the timing changes. Your ears and your way home outrank the encore.