For the Night They Played Your Song

There's a moment at every show. The first notes of the one you came for — and ten thousand people inhale at once, and for three and a half minutes you are exactly where you're supposed to be.

Then the lights come up. The crowd files out. And by Tuesday you're back at your desk wondering if it really felt like that.

It did. And you don't have to let it fade into a camera roll you'll never scroll back to. That song — the encore, the b-side they finally played, the one you screamed until your voice gave out — has a shape. We print it raised and permanent, in the colors of that night, with the date and the city if you want them.

You were there. Keep the proof.