A Long Way From Home

Musical experiences

A man watches Above & Beyond in concert at a festival listening to "A Long Way From Home."


Oh... oh, shit... ohhhhhh... yeah, that’s it.
The bass just hit me right in the fucking soul, man. I can feel it vibrating my chest like it’s trying to break in and live rent-free in my ribcage. My eyes are wide as saucers, everything's glowing, and the colours... Jesus Christ, the colours are alive. The stage lights are slicing through the fog, little neon knives of glory, and every single one of them is perfectly timed with the beat. How the fuck do they time it so perfectly? Wizards, that’s how. Goddamn wizards.

Oh, wait—this song. This fucking song. "A Long Way From Home." No, no, no, no. Not this one. Not this one right now. I wasn’t ready. I thought I was ready, but I am absolutely, unequivocally not ready for this. Those opening synths just rolled in like waves, and I swear I felt them brush against my skin like a warm tide. Breathe, man. Just breathe.

I can hear the vocals coming. I can feel them approaching like some emotional freight train. Oh God, my heart is doing that weird thing where it clenches up like it’s afraid it’s about to be evicted. Don’t cry. Don’t you dare cry, you weak bastard. Not in front of all these beautiful, sweaty strangers. But I know I’m gonna. I know it. It’s bubbling up, this stupid, unstoppable swell of everything I’ve been trying not to think about. Fuck you, Above & Beyond. Fuck you and your perfect melodic hooks and your heart-murdering lyrics.

“It's been a long time, it's been a long time from home...”

Oh, you motherfuckers. You didn't have to do me like that. I’m suddenly 12 years old, sitting on my bed staring at the ceiling, wondering why Dad had to leave. Then I’m 20 and broke, eating stale ramen for the fifth day in a row while my roommate plays FIFA too loud in the next room. Then I’m 30, holding my phone too tight, scrolling past photos of friends I don't talk to anymore, acting like I don't miss them, pretending I'm cool with being "independent." And now I’m here, standing in this sea of strangers, everyone swaying like we’re all the same tree in the same storm.

My jaw’s tight as fuck from all the clenching, and my eyes—oh, man, they’re leaking. I’m not crying, though. No, no, no, not crying. It’s just... the lasers, man. The fog. It’s the fog getting in my eyes. Who put this much fog here? Somebody call OSHA, this is a fucking health hazard.

I reach out, and I don’t even know what I’m reaching for. The sky? The stars? My mum’s hand from 20 years ago? I don’t know, but my fingers are out there, stretching into the nothing like something's just out of reach. I don’t even know if I want to grab it or just feel it exist for a second. God, what is happening to me?

This isn’t just a song. It’s The Song. The one that somehow knows all my secrets, even the ones I haven’t told myself yet. Every sound feels intentional, like it’s been hunting me for years, and now it's caught me. I’m not running anymore. I'm just standing here letting it all crash into me. “It's been a long time, it’s been a long time from home…”

Fuck. Me.

I look around, and it hits me that I love everyone here. I don’t even know their names, but I’d die for them. That guy in the LED glasses? I’d take a bullet for him. That girl with the glitter tears? I’d carry her through a war zone on my back. We’re all just lost little kids who wandered too far from home, and this song is the campfire we found together. I glance over, and some guy with a tie-dye hoodie is looking right at me, eyes wide as hell, grinning like he knows exactly what I’m feeling. We nod at each other. We know. No words needed. He raises his water bottle like he’s toasting me, and I do the same. Cheers to you, random human. We’re both fucked up in the exact same way.

The drop is coming. I know it. I can feel it in my bones. Everything's getting quieter, pulling back like it’s gearing up for something bigger. The lights slow down, that little heartbeat pulse in the background is teasing me, and my body tenses like I’m on a roller coaster just before the drop. Don’t do this to me, don't you dare do this to me, you emotional terrorists.

But they do it. Of course, they do it. That wall of sound comes rushing in, and it’s like being hit by a tidal wave made of pure feeling. I throw my hands up—not because I want to—but because I have to. It’s not a decision anymore. It’s instinct. My face cracks into this wild, stupid grin, and I’m laughing and crying at the same time. Who the hell even cries and laughs at the same time? I didn’t even know that was possible.

And now I’m weightless. I’m everywhere and nowhere. I’m home, and I’m not. But it’s okay. I think I get it now. It’s not about the place. It’s about this. This moment. This shared, perfect, unspoken, stupidly beautiful now. And I’m in it. I’m fucking here.

God, I never want this song to end.

But I know it will. They always do. That’s the point, isn’t it?

Alright, alright, I’m still here. Still floating. Still cracked open like a goddamn glowstick somebody snapped too hard.

The drop’s fading now. I can feel it pulling back like the tide, but it’s not gone. It’s just... lingering. Like the way thunder rolls on after the lightning’s already flashed. My chest is still vibrating, and my heartbeat has synced up with it like I’m a fucking Bluetooth speaker somebody forgot to disconnect. I wipe my face, but it’s useless because I’m still crying. Not even little sniffles — I’m talking full-on ugly cry, mouth open, snot threatening to make a cameo, the whole production. But I don’t care. None of us do. I glance around, and I’m not the only one. Big dude with a bandana tied around his forehead? Crying. Girl with butterfly wings on her back? Crying. Some guy in a Pikachu onesie? Absolutely wrecked. We’re all disasters together, and somehow that makes it feel okay.

“It’s been a long time, it’s been a long time from home…”

Fucking hell, they brought it back. THEY BROUGHT IT BACK. Same line. Same melody. But it’s different now. It’s heavier somehow. Like they waited for you to think you were safe and then hit you with it again just to see if you’d break twice. Spoiler alert: I did. My knees feel soft, like gravity suddenly doubled just for me. Don’t you dare fall, man. Stand up. Stand the fuck up. But then I think, And if you fall, so what?

Yeah. So what?

There’s something about this whole place, this whole sweaty, glowing, unholy cathedral of synths and basslines, that makes it feel safe. Safe to feel everything you’re supposed to keep locked up. The world outside wants you to act like you’ve got your shit together all the time, but nobody here gives a fuck. You can be a mess. You can be a wreck. Hell, you can be a beautiful wreck, and they’ll love you for it. Not judge you. Not push you away. Just nod and keep dancing.

And suddenly, I think about home. Not the physical place. Not four walls and a roof. I’m thinking about people. Mum’s voice on the phone when she calls me out of nowhere, like she knows I needed it. The smell of my best friend’s couch after a night of too many drinks and bad life decisions. That one look my ex gave me when I made her laugh so hard she snorted and then tried to pretend it didn’t happen. Those are the little pieces of home I’ve been dragging around with me. Little shards I keep in my pockets but never take out to look at.

I feel them all now. All at once.

My eyes are closed, but it’s not dark. There’s this glow. Not just the stage lights, but something else. Something warm. It’s like the music itself is a light, and I’m standing under it like it’s sunshine after too many cold nights. That light hits me in every spot I’ve been too stubborn to show anyone. Places I didn’t even know I was hiding. It’s like every little secret hurt I’ve been hoarding finally stepped forward and said, “Hey, man, you forgot about us.”

I didn't forget. I just didn’t want to look. Not until now.

I open my eyes, and the world feels sharper. The fog is still thick, lasers still cutting through it like rainbow swords, but every face around me is crystal clear. Look at them. I mean, really look. They’re all so different, so wildly unique, and somehow we’re all here in this one moment together. Thousands of people who, for all I know, I’ll never see again, but right now, they’re closer than family. And that’s not the drugs talking. Okay, maybe it’s a little bit the drugs talking, but it’s also fucking true.

I turn in a slow circle, just taking it all in. It’s like being in the centre of a galaxy that’s spinning too fast but somehow still feels safe. Some guy with LED gloves is doing finger dances at me, and I just grin like an idiot, nodding along like, “Yeah, man. You’re fucking crushing it.” He is. He absolutely is. His fingers are little magic wands weaving spells, and I am here for it. Then there’s this group of three girls, all glittered up like celestial beings, hugging each other so tight I’m surprised they’re not merging into a single superbeing. I want to tell them, “Don’t ever stop hugging. That’s all we really want anyway.” But I don’t, because I’d sound like a lunatic, and also my jaw is too tight to form words right now.

“It’s been a long time, it’s been a long time from home…”

God, they just keep bringing it back. Every time I think I’m good, every time I think I’m fine, they bring it back. That same line, that same melody, and it hits like a fucking gut punch. I know, okay?! I know it’s been a long time. I’m living it, assholes! But it’s not anger. It’s never anger. It’s this weird mix of gratitude and heartbreak and release. Like letting go of a balloon you’ve been gripping too tight for too long. You’re sad to see it go, but your hand feels lighter now.

My hands are still in the air. I don’t remember putting them there, but they’re up, like I’m surrendering to all of it. Not just the song. Not just the night. All of it. Every dumb mistake I’ve made. Every friendship I let slip away because I was too lazy to text back. Every "I love you" I never said because I thought I'd get another chance. I’m holding all that in my hands right now, and I’m letting it float up, up, up. Gone.

It’s gone.

I feel this stupid, ridiculous laugh bubble up from my chest. It’s that kind of laugh where you’re not even sure if you’re laughing at something funny or if your body just needed a pressure valve to release the overflow. It comes out loud and wild, and for a second, I think people are gonna look at me like I’m insane, but they don’t. Of course they don’t. A girl next to me sees me laughing and she starts laughing too. Doesn’t even know why. Doesn’t care. Just sees me freefalling into it, and she dives in right after me.

I grab her hand. Don’t know her name. Don’t need to. For these few minutes, we’re something bigger than strangers. I squeeze her hand, and she squeezes back like we’re both saying, “I see you. I fucking see you.”

The last note rings out, that long, soft drone that feels like it’s hugging the whole crowd at once. No sudden stop. No sharp cut. Just a fade. A gentle ending, like the music is backing away slowly, hands up, saying, “I’m done now. You got this from here.”

I let out a long breath I didn’t know I was holding. My heart’s still racing, but it’s a good kind of fast. Not panic. Not fear. Just alive.

The crowd erupts into cheers, like everyone just woke up from the same shared dream and realized it was real. Hands clap, whistles cut through the air, and a guy behind me screams, “LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO!” and honestly? Yeah. Let’s fucking go. Let’s keep going. Let’s never stop.

The lights flicker, and I can feel the next track creeping in, but for a second, there’s this perfect, perfect silence. Not real silence, but that space between songs where anything feels possible. It’s so quiet you can hear people breathing, still wiping their faces, still coming back down from wherever they went.

And in that space, I swear I hear it one last time.

“It’s been a long time, it’s been a long time from home…”

Yeah. I know. But right now, I think I’m closer than I’ve ever been.

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