Write it hot. Read it back when the memory has faded.
In the car park, right after. That's when the words are truest. In five years they'll be worth a fortune.
The memory of a gig gets rewritten the very next day, from being told over and over. Capsül works in your phone's browser, with no app: you can write in the car park and pick a date five or ten years away. Here's what to note down while your ears are still ringing, and three messages written on the way out.
Right after the gig
Write on the way home, while your ears are still ringing.
The match
The final, the promotion, the mad one. Pin it down before it becomes an anecdote.
Your first concert
The one you saw at 15. Write yourself a note for 30.
The festival
One capsül per edition. A collection that gains value every year.
What should you write straight after?
What your phone's blurry video won't keep. The opening song, the one you weren't expecting. The bloke in front of you singing out of tune, and louder than the singer.
The price of a pint, too. In ten years, it'll make you laugh.
Skip the music review. Nobody enjoys rereading their own views on the sound mix. Write down what your mate said on the way out instead, the line you'll all keep repeating for years without remembering where it came from.
How long before you read it back?
When all you remember is the name of the tour. Five years works well for a festival, ten for a first gig.
The first gig you went to at 15, read back at 30, goes past the ten-year mark, so it's Prestige plus a block of extension years. For a match, a symbolic date works too, like the anniversary of a promotion or a cup final.
In 1977, NASA put the music of Earth on a golden record and sent it into space. Closer to home, going digital has changed how people keep this kind of memory.
What do you actually note down on the way out?
The time and the place, mostly. Three messages, one written with frozen fingers.
Lauren, Manchester Arena, 11.40pm, car park C. I'm writing this with frozen fingers. They opened with the song from the trailer, the one we used to play in Becky's Fiesta. We screamed. A man of about fifty in front of us knew every word. He was crying. So was Becky. A pint was £8. Write that down, you'll find it funny. We've still got an hour's drive and I've lost my voice. Lauren
Dad, One year. We were in the North Stand, and you grabbed a stranger in a 1998 shirt and didn't let go of him until the celebrations were over. His name was Dave. You kept his number. Ring Dave. Kyle
Max, You lost your tent, your phone and your dignity. Going back this year?
Common questions
How do you keep the memory of a gig?
By writing within the hour, before the story sets from being retold. Note what the videos don't keep: the unexpected song, the people around you. Then schedule the text for several years ahead, when all you'll have left is the name of the tour.
Can you write a capsül on your phone?
Yes. Capsül is a website, not an app: everything happens in your phone's browser, signing in included. You write, then add yourself as the recipient with the date you want. A photo from the gig can go in with a pack, up to three with Prestige. No video, no sound recordings.
Why not just keep the videos?
Because a gig video mostly shows a blurry screen and distorted sound. It doesn't say who you were with, or how you felt walking out. Text keeps what the image loses. The two work together: a photo in the capsül, words around it.
When is the right time to read it back?
A few years at least. At six months, the memory is still sharp and the message tells you nothing. At five or ten years, it describes someone you've half forgotten. Without buying anything, the date is limited to 180 days; a pack pushes it back, up to ten years with Prestige.