i don’t like loud music. tonight, it couldn’t get loud enough.
the thing that keeps me coming back to concerts is the moment when you connect with the artist, the moment that you experience the same emotions they were feeling when they sat down to write what you’re hearing. as i closed my eyes during the second chorus of “creature fear”, the speakers began to swell. the room got smaller. i was surrounded by musical chaos. i was in a cabin in wisconsin, it was cold out, there was a quaint fire reflecting off of the empty bottles lying on the floor and i was sick with emotion. i felt the bass in my chest, and each hit of the snare echoed in my head like a ticking clock in a deafeningly silent room in the midst of a snowy night. the sounds grew louder and louder until i couldn’t decipher between squealing guitar, crashing symbols and falsetto. the room fell silent and, shortly thereafter, roared with applause. this was not the only time such raw sentiment was created.
a few songs later, the chaos returned. the audience began as a small ornament hanging from the song, but was quickly transformed into just as much musical pandemonium as each instrument being played on stage. it was beautiful.
i’ve liked bon iver for quite some time before tonight, but tonight, i love bon iver. i love the display of sincere emotion and the ability to transport an audience member to a place they’ve never been. and then, the ability to fill this undiscovered place with life and make it feel so familiar.
bon iver. itunes. make it happen.
