Moving Statues (Sonic Fiction, 2025)

I’ve never seen feet planted so firmly on the ground while music was blasting out of huge

speakers.

I’ve never seen arms as tightly crossed while a body onstage moved passionately to reggae

rhythms.

I’ve never seen a face so constrained while a man rocks out a well known solo on his keyboard.

In other words, I have never been at a Danser med Drenge concert in Grenaa before.

The songs are Danish classics, the hair of people in the audience is bleached, gone or grey, it’s time to let loose - or so you’d think. It’s Saturday, cardboard beer holders with 6 beers in each are being handed over the bar for 200 kr on Mobilepay, a technician has had too much fun with the disco lights, which makes my mum complain to him about it, to which he answers he can’t do anything about it, because the light show was coded in the morning, and we therefore must stay occasionally overstimulated by the blinding lights. At the bar acquaintances are catching up, trying to speak over the music they paid to hear, only to be shushed every 5 minutes by people who are trying to listen. In front of the stage are the old (female) friends dancing with each other and laughing, pointing their finger at the lead singer, when she sings something that gives the brain an extra shot of dopamine or serotonin. Around the friends are the second circle of people swaying back and forth and singing along in a calm and collected manner. I am one of them, the Swayers, but my mum, the wonderful wildcard, could go anywhere in the room.

Except for one place.

On the outskirts of the Swayers, stand the husbands. Still as statues.

As groovy reggae and pop tunes fill the air, well known lyrics are screamed out confidently with the help of a few glasses of white wine, while a few lucky wives are pulled up on stage to help sing a song about friendship, the men just stand there. Not. Moving. A. Muscle. Eyes fixated on the stage. Arms crossed. Ergonomic shoes glued to the floor. The song changes again. “Sing along if you know this one!” this lead singer says. And we all know that one.

But the men will not sing.

They cannot be tricked nor charmed. It seems as if nothing will break through their hard exterior. I observe them closely, looking for signs of a finger tapping to the beat, a smile in the corner of a mouth, a gentle nodding of the head, but there is nothing. Absolutely nothing. Only stillness. The music cannot move them. The husbands will not surrender to the groove.

The concert continues. Occasionally I shed a tear, swaying alongside my mum, feeling

nostalgic listening to the songs she played on the CD player, when I was a kid. The friends

keep dancing, the shushing of the drunks continues, but the men are still to every single note. Their bodies vacuum packed into position.

That is until the final song.

“How long are you going to let them humiliate you?” the singer belts out, “How long are you gonna let them step on you before your heart breaks into a million pieces?” The friends are dancing like their lives depend on it, the drunks are singing along instead of talking, the technician is moving from side to side happy that his shift is over soon and at the same time a miracle is happening.

The husbands have activated some of their muscles.

It starts slowly. A mouth here and there miming the lyrics, vocal chords activated to sing along, not just a finger - but a whole hand tapping against blue jeans. The singer continues: “How long are you gonna put up with their bullshit?” she sings, and now weight is being shifted from one foot to the other in a rhythmic fashion. Bodies that were previously firmly planted are now migrating towards the stage, a few arms have even been raised to show excitement that either will not or cannot be contained any longer. Like water in a boiling pot of pasta, the men have erupted. After a whole concert of fun, upbeat, engaging, uplifting, nostalgic and groovy rhythms, the music, the lyrics, the beer, the atmosphere, their inner worlds - something finally got to them. And they moved.

The music finally made the statues move.