My B-side

It's me and the moon.

I crossed four lanes in five seconds during Salt Lake City rush hour; all for the love of piano rock. Mauren, Mary, and I had endured 45 minutes of intense heat (lost efforts to defog my windows) and insane Utah driving. It was time to claim our prize. Unfortunately, I overestimated my self-mastery of the Utah street coordinate system. We looked for a hint, such as the venue’s sign once in the general vicinity. Five left turns and twenty minutes later we found it; practically the size of my left pinky nail. Ice fell from the sky, unwelcome by those who opted out of coat wearing for the eve. The line moved quickly, in no time we were flashing I.D.’s and undergoing the-frisk-process. Breathing came to a halt; a camera was concealed in my purse, swaddled in a black sock. “Enjoy the show.” Exhale. I headed straight for the merch. I fell in love with a white Straylight Run baby tee.

I asked the hired hand for his opinion on the design. “What’s up with the rabbit costumes? Does it have some sort of link to the band?” (It was a bit Donnie Darko.)

“No, no. Nothing to do with us really; some artist just got a little creative.”

I laughed, “Um yeah, I’d say so.” Woah, wait...he said US. “And which bunny are you?”

“That one.” He said pointing to the warm, fuzzy drummer. SCORE!

“Well, nice to meet you.” I reached out to shake his hand. I know, I know. I’m forever branded 'dork.'

“I’m Mark.” He smiled. “And the bunny shirt is hot.”

So, of course I bought it and got a few pics while I was at it. People were packing in; we found a spot near the left speaker and anxiously awaited what was to come. The Academy Is served up a high energy screamo performance. The moshing began as did the apportionment of my small group. I was pushed into the middle; I hated this part of concerts. I’m always left to fend for myself, its times like these I wished to be that of an Olga complex. Nevertheless, I made do and enjoyed the music. Prior to Armor for Sleep’s entrance, I was able to fight my way back to Mary; for yet another round of body smashing. We dominoed to the ground, twice. A few songs later I found myself laying dead center in a mosh pit. I have no idea how I got there, but a random guy dove in and carried me out. I thanked him via hug. All in all; the band sucked. Their music served little consolation for the stampede like torture plunged upon me. After the umpteenth song they closed with the only one I recognized. It was eye-level with par. This brings us to the moment we’d all been waiting for. At least the moment I’d been waiting for. (I came to the SoCo concert for the opener, Straylight Run.) I knew every song, making sure those around me were well aware. It came to a perfect end, Existentialism on Prom Night. Yeah, you would kill for this. Who wouldn’t? It was lovely. Something Corporate was ready to wrap up the evening. I worked my way to the very front and embraced the barricade for cherished life. Waves of people crashed into me, but the feel-his-sweat closeness easily drowned out pain. I recalled lyrics to a whole five songs; Cavanaugh Park, Down, I Want to Save You, Space, and the beloved Konstantine. Lights were dimmed; Andrew sat still at his upright. Given the first three notes I knew it was time for my favorite so-raw-it's-bleeding love ballad. The beauty of the sound that filled the leaking venue could lull anyone into submission. I was no exception, and stood rapt. Andrew left his piano after the third verse and sat on the edge of the stage. He began to intertwine lyrics from a local Indiana band, Mock Orange, into Konstantine's magnificence. I continued to sing along (and alone) through the new addition. My reward; an Andrew smile. There was no encore; much deserved, yet unnecessary. We drove home spent but satisfied. Luckily, rush hour had long ended. I’d lost the verve to cross four lanes in five seconds, and my motivation was a quarter way to Vegas.

Concert Pics

posted by Melissa at 18:13