Something I have been craving, a man I have been dreaming of seeing for several years. To the point that when I met Chaz Bundick I actually asked him questions about what Ernest Greene is like. I know…
But the point of this post is that it finally happened! Washed out came to Brighton, so we got tickets and marched on down to the sea front to Concorde 2. This was a sweet relief because just a few days earlier Deerhunter were meant to be playing this venue, however, their UK/EU tour was cancelled. I didn’t cry but I might have had a bit of a tantrum…
Back to the night of dreams… being super keen we arrived around 8 p.m, and to tell you the truth the place was pretty empty. Us Baby Bear Bones were playing some amazing opening music, the way the lead singer hit her drum really caught my attention. To my dismay, they stopped playing after I had only heard about one and a half songs. I was disappointed, but this band happens to be local (and their name is even painted on the wall of Sticky Mike’s) so if I get a chance, I will definitely go to one of their shows. They made an impression.
Amateur Best was next. A man with a keyboard, a horn, a few other gadgets, and a voice. What a voice. I didn’t really know what was happening, it was all so different. It felt almost awkward, watching this guy sing his heart out, but the crowd was growing steadily and he didn’t seem to have any insecurities. I was doubtful at first, but impressed nonetheless. Mainly because he could actually play that horn really well, and captivate an audience.
And then it began. Washed Out came, first his band started playing , then Ernest ran out, looking like quite the hippy with his shoulder length hair and bohemian look, guitar around his shoulder. I will admit, I didn’t listen to much of his newest album Parocasm. I was surprised when he actually didn’t make it his sole focus of the show.
He played the old stuff, what I really wanted to hear. Get Up, Feel it All Around, and Belong were in there as well. I hadn’t felt so zen in a long time. I closed my eyes and swayed and smiled. Sipped my beer, and got slightly annoyed when some lads held up their camera phone for 30 seconds too long. But for the most part, I was extremely relaxed, because that is just what Washed Out does to me.
Afterwards, I was so starry eyed that upon walking into the smoking section and faced with several smiles and North American accents, I just began speaking to his band. Without realizing they were his band until about a minute into the conversation. Embarrassing? Slightly. But we were just too busy bonding over our roots. And I was still floating outside of my body most likely.
I mean, it’s been nearly a week and I’m still dreaming of the moment he stepped on stage.
So I will just leave this here.