I suppose there are worse things I could do with my time than follow a Portland band around for a few nights and compare notes with, eh, myself when it's all over and done with. I heard Blind Pilot trading songs back and forth between their new album and their old so much, in fact, I thought they were doing nothing but old tunes last night; that's the level of familiarity that's present, either in my now knowing these songs as well as I do or due to their blasted, fantastic consistency. I had to slap my face a few times on that drive home from St. Augustine and nearly ran a red light on account of carnapping (just like catnapping but, you know, while driving) but, now that it's over with, I can say it's worth the extra travel and lost sleep. It's part of that grand adventure, it is.
When the band asked if they could join us, climbing off the stage and gingerly transferring their instruments to the middle of our crowd, quietly suggested we put our cameras down and be in the moment with them for the space of a song, then proceeding to perform an unplugged take on their "Three Rounds and a Sound," well then, I was as happy as the jumping-up-and-down trumpeter/organist in the band. I just hid it a whole lot better.
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2 comments:
You are one lucky chap! I'm hoping they come out to the UK soon.
aaah, what sweet sounds. The ears are always open to a Blind Pilot session.
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