I was given the most wonderful gift last week. Tickets to see Local Natives.

A band that I have loved since the first moment I heard their unique sound. I compulsively show anyone their famous video to help spread their fandom. They have been featured multiple times on my birthday lists and on many a road trip. For my friends who know me well, you know that I’m a sucker for lots of percussion and big crescendos, strong emotive voices, and harmonies. And the local natives have all of it. (I’m also a sucker for slide guitars and banjos, but that’s another story.) What the Local Natives do with their sound, is like a key unlocking this primal desire to dance and sing with wild abandon whether you’re in your car, with friends or in sea of strangers with kindred spirits. And to be frank, they have been this elusive band that I have not been able to see live. There’s always a conflict in my schedule or they skip over Phoenix in their tour, etc. But not this time. NOT. THIS. TIME. And it was so much more than just scratching off a band from my “Must see live” bucket list; it was beautiful.

 

I’m about to get mushy and ramble, bear with me.

I have never been more proud of Phoenix than I was at this concert. After living in DC and getting exposed to amazing artists, venues, and constant shows; I was so disappointed when I moved back to Phoenix and the music scene paled in comparison. Phoenix has some big venues, but who wants to see their favorite band from nosebleed seats that cost $80? There wasn’t a 9:30 Club vibe with big names in intimate spaces and crowds that were ‘all in’ just for the music. Now, Phoenix, I know you’ve been working on this. Crescent Ballroom has seriously impressed me, Mesa Amphitheatre – you have my heart if the concert is any time other than May-September, and the Marquee for years has been bringing some pretty stellar bands. But I will tell you, when I heard this concert was at the Marquee, my expectation of its greatness went down 50%. You see the last time I went to the Marquee I saw Band of Horses (also on my bucket list) – and I did something that I never thought I would ever do.

I left early.

Not because of the band, but the sound was bad, the crowd was so rude, and …I hate the smell of pot at concerts. It makes me feel grimy and dirty. And it’s one thing if it’s outside and I can get away from the fumes, but the Marquee is inside. No escape. And I found that security was not doing anything about it and it just irked me. (Am I just getting old for having less patience? Probably. But I’m also a bit of a music purist who thinks those folks aren’t really there for the music (hello, music is my high) – and it just feels disrespectful to the band and to the music.) So I waited until they sang my top three favorites, and I left.

But last week, I walked in to a newly remodeled Marquee. Balcony seats, better lighting, more security, different vibe….and while I immediately thought “They’re trying to become the 9:30 club, I don’t know how I feel about that…” I quickly adjusted to “Hey….they’re trying to be like the 9:30 club! Good job Marquee!!! Yes, please and thank you!”

Security pulled folks that were rude and disruptive early on. Sound was awesome. Marquee, you may have won me back.

But Phoenix, that’s not all. You see the DC music scene wasn’t just about venues, it was about crowds knowing how to love a band on stage too. And I was overwhelmed with delight at getting to witness the love shown to Local Natives at this concert.

The crowd was diverse. I stood next to these three guys, who I actually thought were security when they walked in because well, one looked like he just got out of prison, the other had the build of a football player, and they all were wearing black from head to toe. But when Local Natives started their set, they were singing from the top of their lungs, dancing hard, and at times, recording video with a look of admiration that was kidlike. I wanted to hug these guys.

A girl behind me informed those of us around her “I want to apologize now, I get a little crazy at concerts and I might bump some elbows by accident.” And a fellow concert goer (a girl btw) responded “Hey dude, bodies are bound to touch tonight.” A fantastically awkward moment. And man, was the girl not kidding about going a little crazy. Mostly I didn’t mind. At one point her dance moves included putting her hand on my shoulder to jump and spin . . .I could have been easily turned off by this, but when it happened was important, because when it happened they were playing the perfect song, so I simply shrugged and joined in on the dancing.

It was not a wild mosh pit though. And I keep thinking about how smart the Local Natives are in their sound and in their show. They have these soaring vocals that are easy to sing to, percussion that makes you want to move, but then their song choice…it was like waves crashing. Swelling slow and contemplative songs like “Airplanes” that they played without any drums and minimal light tricks in the set too.

This was followed by Colombia by the way. Airplanes a tribute a bandmember’s grandfather, Colombia, a bandmember’s mother who passed.  They invited us into this communal grieving and reflection as hundreds of voices sang along “You gave, and gave, and gave, and gave. … every night I ask myself, Am I giving enough?” And you could see it on their faces, the band felt loved. And I felt proud.

If I were a better blogger, I would tell you all about their new songs. They’re good. And the crowd loved them and danced despite not being able to sing along to them to the same standard of their known songs (their new record literally released days before the show.) I will tell you, they are fun songs, great to dance to, and great played live.

But I just want to talk about the last song. An old song from Gorilla Manor that has never really been a favorite. I was a little surprised by this as their last choice. But they are so smart. It got us dancing and joining in with clapping and singing with all our might as we raised our hands to this beautiful light show that looked like a setting sun. In my last post, I shared that I’m coming out of a season of feeling disconnected and that I’m resolved to have more sunshine. And in this crowd of strangers, at a concert for a band that is not Christian, I started to cry because the lyrics of this song, this song that’s not even in the top five of my favorite songs from this band, were like words right from God to my heart:

The most beautiful colors chase the sun
They wrap her trail in a taunting gesture
That seems to sing out loud,
“this is what you’re missing”

I’ll endure the night
For the promise of light
I want to lift my hands towards the sun
Show me warmth
And when I can feel with my sun hands
I’ll promise not to lose her again
And even if the morning never comes
My hands are blessed to have touched the sun

God was giving me this gift of joy, through a generous friend buying me a ticket, through a band of millennials with man buns and likely very different intentions of how their music might be interpreted by someone like me, through a crowd of fans showing support to artists in the most genuine way, through the hand of a crazy girl behind me who invited me into her group of friends to jump and play and dance.

My voice was gone, my feet sore, but my heart was full.