If you don’t know who Hatsune Miku is, don’t worry - I didn’t either, until my daughter made it her mission to educate me.
Miku is a Vocaloid - a synthesized singing voice paired with a visual character, a turquoise-haired anime girl who has somehow transcended her origins as a piece of music software and become one of the most recognizable figures in modern pop culture. She has millions of fans worldwide. She tours. She sells out arenas. She is, technically speaking, not real.
My daughter has loved her for years.
Where to Find the Best Kobe Beef #
When we were planning our trip to Japan last year, my daughter quietly hoped we might be able to catch a Miku concert while we were there. Unfortunately, Miku was in Sapporo the weeks we were visiting - six hours away on the shinkansen, which would have meant a twelve hour round trip in the middle of a family vacation.
I briefly considered it. Sapporo is one of my beers of choice, and there’s something undeniably appealing about the idea of drinking a Sapporo in Sapporo - how novel, how perfectly on brand. Unfortunately the Sapporo I buy in Ontario is brewed at the Sleeman factory in Guelph, which takes some of the romance out of it. A twelve hour train ride for a Guelph beer didn’t seem worth it.
For the record, I also lobbied for a side trip to Kobe specifically to eat Kobe beef - pointing at a map and making the case that we were practically on top of it and this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. I was overruled. Later, to settle the matter, I googled “where to get the best Kobe beef?” The answer was Tokyo.
So when Miku announced North American tour dates and one of them was at Copps Coliseum in Hamilton - within easy driving distance, one of only two Canadian dates on the whole tour - I knew what had to be done. We were going to see Miku. I also knew right away who would be making the trek with my daughter - my wife doesn’t like loud music, doesn’t like highway driving, and has never been to Copps (now rebranded as TD Coliseum - but to me, it will forever remain Copps).
It’s Been a While #
I’m no stranger to Copps. I saw Marilyn Manson there on the Antichrist Superstar tour in the 90s. A few years later, Rob Zombie and Korn on the same bill. Good shows, good memories, and the general understanding that downtown Hamilton means one-way streets, perpetual construction, and a stress level that takes about forty minutes of highway driving to shake off afterward.
Worth it for Miku. Probably.
A few weeks before the show, I looked up the official glowsticks online. Synchronized, colour-changing, specifically designed for Miku concerts. Eighty dollars. I told my daughter sorry, absolutely not, we’re not paying that. The website mentioned you could bring your own within certain size restrictions and I genuinely considered a dollar store run. I am so glad I didn’t.
We timed our arrival to stop at the mall nearby first - partly to charge the car, partly because my daughter had spotted that EB Games was selling Miku merchandise at roughly a quarter of the price it would cost at the venue. Smart kid. We browsed, we saved money, we got back to the venue at 6:45 for a 7pm door opening.
I Have Never Seen This Before #
I have been to a lot of concerts. I have never seen a lineup like this.
Four to five thousand people, wrapped around the block, in good spirits despite the cold. More than once I turned to my daughter and said “I have never seen this before.” Every few minutes a new Miku cosplayer would walk past heading for the back of the line, and a ripple would go through the crowd - “oh look, it’s [specific variant] Miku!” - followed by enthusiastic commentary on how rare that particular Miku was, and the general consensus that all Mikus are canon and therefore all cosplays are valid.
I knew what canon meant. I did not know what “all Mikus are canon” meant. My daughter explained it to me patiently while we waited. She also narrated every cosplayer that walked past - their backstory, their significance, how they fit into the Miku universe.
Her favourite was Cannibal Miku.
“What do you mean Cannibal Miku,” I said. “What is HAPPENING.”
She explained. I nodded. I have chosen not to retain the details.
We made it inside at 7:55. The show started at 8:00.
Thirty Seconds on YouTube #
I should have gone to YouTube before the show. Thirty seconds of any Miku concert footage and I would have understood immediately what I was walking into. Instead I walked in cold, and found myself standing in an arena with over six thousand people, most of them holding glowsticks - all shifting colour in perfect unison with the music, washing the entire crowd in waves of red, green, orange, purple and white. I stood there and thought: oh. OH. I understand now. A dollar store glowstick would have been so much worse than no glowstick at all. At least I had my dignity.
She is, Technically Speaking, Not Real #
Hatsune Miku is a hologram - a projected image on a giant screen at the front of the stage, backed by a live band who flanked her quietly on either side and absolutely worked for ninety straight minutes. The drummer in particular looked like he’d been training for this specific event his entire life. The pace never let up.
Miku brought guests - other Vocaloid characters, each one greeted with a fresh wave of screaming. One of them breakdanced. Every new move brought the crowd to a new level of hysteria. I watched this happening and the pragmatic part of my brain kept forming a sentence that I had the good sense never to say out loud: you know these were just animated on a computer, right? I think if I’d said it out loud, a horde of Miku fans may have swarmed me.
The whole production was extraordinary - not just technically, but in terms of what it meant to the people in that building. This was not an audience watching a performance. This was a community having a shared experience, and the joy in that room was completely genuine and completely overwhelming.
My daughter loved every second of it.
As Far as My Lawyers Are Concerned #
Like I mentioned, I’ve been to Copps a handful of times over the years. I walked in assuming that my experience mattered - that I knew the venue, knew the drill, knew what to expect. What I failed to account for is that my concerts and my daughter’s concert are not the same thing, and everything I thought I knew flew right out the window the moment I saw that lineup.
If I could do it again: I’d have gotten there earlier, sorted parking in advance, and gone straight to the merch booth - which opens hours before the actual doors do, a fact I discovered after the show when the lineup was three hundred people deep. I told my daughter we should skip the booth and just buy the merch online at home. As it turned out, shipping on a poster started at forty eight dollars.
I also would have spent those thirty seconds on YouTube before deciding the glowstick wasn’t worth it.
After the show, my daughter reminded me that she had in fact asked about a glowstick before the concert, and had tried to explain how important they were to the Miku experience. I have no recollection of this conversation. At least, that’s my position, and I’m sticking to it as far as my lawyers are concerned.
Expectations - Managed #
On the way home I mentioned, carefully, that not all concerts are quite this high energy - just to manage expectations for whatever comes next.
She nodded. She mentioned she’s also really into System of a Down, maybe she could see them next?
I thought about this for a moment. Between the glowsticks, the synchronized crowd, the live band playing at full tilt for ninety minutes, and the general atmosphere of six thousand people completely losing their minds together - and System of a Down, who operate at approximately the same energy level but with significantly more screaming - I think her expectations are going to be fine.
Her first concert was a good one. I’m glad I was there for it.