If you're a woman, you'll never be more thankful than here, in this moment, 10 minutes before Hatsune Miku takes to the stage. Is it worth trying to move to the front, you'll wonder, if Miku won't be limited to the height and stage limitations that confine us mortals? Maybe she'll multiply and appear in every corner of the ballroom, which is crowded but not too crowded. Will she just materialize in the middle of the stage? Why stay stuck to the stage if she's just digital, anyway? Maybe Miku will engulf the entire room and perform from the ceiling. You'll start to get excited about her entrance. Their very human hands wave goodbye as their very human voices tease the crowd that Miku will be appearing soon.
Right before 9, the opener will leave the stage. It will be way too dark to tell if both of your eyes are open in the photo, so don't expect to post that on Instagram later. Proud of your outfit, you will take a selfie or two, featuring the dutiful members of your concert-going party next to you.
You'll be thankful that you wore a tank top. You'll see a handful of girls in blue wigs, styled like the Vocaloid idol boys in Miku Expo shirts from past shows and men wearing headphones around their necks, hands dug deep into jean pockets, sweat peeking through their graphic tees. The majority seem to fall along the lines of the former, even during this first Miku-less hour. You'll then take stock of the crowd, assessing whether they are the Miku faithful or Miku-curious. You'll notice that the people around you - many of whom are there alone, it seems - are similarly otherwise occupied, however. You've heard them play maybe six songs, and you'll feel kind of bad about it. It will be 8:40, and the opener is wrapping up. In your dazed state, you will begin checking your phone. You did not pay $90 to see physical beings, after all. The opener will serve as a satisfying amuse-bouche to Miku's main course, but you will spend most of their time on stage getting annoyed that they have corporeal forms. Miku's opening act (in this case, chiptune band and Brooklyn natives Anamanaguchi) will play a fun set, to be sure, but it's likely a sober experience compared to what's to come, you'll think. In my experience - my strange, unforgettable experience - this is what you can look forward to when seeing Hatsune Miku live: While I think that might be best, I also think that those considering stopping by on a future tour date could benefit from some knowledge of how a Hatsune Miku concert plays out before they drop the dough to see her. virtual? I had zero expectations and negative levels of understanding of how the Miku experience translated into the physical realm. I was going to see Miku, live.īut how does that even work, since she's, y'know. Despite being the most openly miserly person I know, I ponied up the cash. So when I heard that her biggest ever North American headlining tour was hitting New York City, I marked my calendar. I'd always been intrigued by Miku, by her facility with a wide swath of genres and her ability to win over anyone, including the president of Domino's Pizza Japan. How does Miku translate into the physical realm? That cute face has a fanbase a million people deep, grown bigger thanks to her expansion into games, anime and copious amounts of merch. She is also an act that amasses huge, human audiences at sizeable ballrooms, where tickets go for $90 a pop. She's just a cute face, made up of various outfit changes and a couple different tones of voice. She serves as an avatar for savvy music makers' creations, offering no agency of her own. She's a Vocaloid, a synthesized singing application.
She has guest starred in anime, been featured in her own series of games and was once rocketed into outer space. Her best known music video features her dancing and singing along to Finnish polka. She is a blue-haired Japanese teenager with the voice of the world's cutest, saddest Game Boy. Part of the charm of pop star Hatsune Miku is that her worldwide popularity is, in some ways, inexplicable.