A summary of the show...
I arrived in Cleveland after the voyage from Rochester. Fortunately the weather held up, so there was no issue with snow. My GPS took me to some random place a mile away from where I expected to be, so I had to poke around the local residents to dig up some directions to the House of Blues. My shoes got a bit soggy from the walk.
I entered the building, and to my dismay, the metal-detector wielding security guards didn't allow me to bring my balloons and face paint in! You take away a nonopus' balloons and face paint, and what does he become? An empty chromatophore-laden sack, that's what! It's a disgrace.
I got a nice spot in the front left corner close to the stage. I met and talked with a few people. One person loved Down There, one of my favorite releases. If we weren't in such a noisy environment, I would have loved to talk more about the finer details of the album, but alas, it's most likely the only time we'd see each other. People even took pictures with me! You guys really know how to make a shy nonpus feel like a celebrity
.
Brian DeGraw (bEEdEEgEE) came on stage. I loved his setup, with the fishing net bird cage that cast a dizzying amount of shadows when hit with multicolored patterns of light. He started off playing a 10 minute or so synth jam, that reminded me of "
Satz: Ebene" from the album Irrlicht by Klaus Schulze, but with seagulls and more knob-twiddling. A droning, chest-shaking bass kicked in. At this point, if I was high, I would be convinced that the building had turned into some interstellar night club spaceship, and we were lifting off from Earth. There were a few four-to-the-floor songs played. The only one I recognized from his first album was "Like Rainmain".
Animal Collective started off with New Town Burnout. The projector screen showed quick video clips of driving down highways. It reminded me of the long drive I would have to take back to Rochester. I thought how Panda Bear, and the rest of the band, were away from home for weeks, even months, on end, driving from place to place, and it really hit me how it must affect them. I imagined P-bear finally getting home in Lisbon, feeling the full weight of an upcoming tour that he is responsible for going on, and not wanting to do anything but just lie in bed (belongings untouched!).
People were already crowd surfing at this point, and this would continue for the rest of the show. It was amusing seeing the pissed-off bulky security guards scanning the crowd and picking off surfers during the joyous melodies of Moonjock and Applesauce (although I thank them for keeping things safe). Avey mentioned that we were acting crazy, and sang "get safer" at the beginning of I Think I Can (at least that's what I heard him say).
All of the songs were great, especially Applesauce, but when Purple Bottle began, the energy went up several levels. The already lively crowd began unrestrainedly hopping about and screaming to the lyrics. The noises, particularly the guitars, were pummeling and relentless. At the "WOOO get that!" part at the end, Avey Tare reached such a high-pitched squeal that it harkened back to the shrieks I've heard from recordings of the Sung Tongs era. This was musically my favorite moment from the concert, but the last song after the encore break had something else in store...
Brothersport. Holy shit people, I've never seen a crowd so crazy! It was nonstop jumping for I couldn't even tell how long. We were packed together, skin against skin. My tentacles began oozing perspiration. People started losing their balance, and fell over into their neighbors. This created a wave effect, where people were being pushed every which way, 5 feet or so during the biggest swells. I was carried by the sea of concertgoers to the back middle of the crowd. Now, I believe I was older than the average person there, so I felt a bit of responsibility to make sure no one was panicking, as the surges were quite strong. All I could see though were faces pasted with smiles, thankfully. I was also thankful for the short break in the middle of the song, after the screaming and train whistle part, since my legs muscles were reaching their limit.
The ensuing silence after Brothersport that signaled the end of the concert was overwhelming. How could they just expect us to leave after such a transcendent experience? (Honestly, I think this was the most energized moment in my life). When the lights turned on, I saw tons of people just standing there, embracing their friends and lovers. I will be honest, I did feel a slight pang of loneliness since I wasn't with anyone at this concert. With such a sudden emptiness, and at a moment in his life where college is ending, and there's nothing to look forward to except the cold salt-soaked Cleveland asphalt and a future that is wide open like a blank book, tell me, what is a nonopus supposed to do? I stumbled around aimlessly like a lost drunkard, expecting something but not knowing what.
After regaining some composure, I picked up my precious and
prohibited trinkets at the coat check and walked out into the vertical landscape. I noticed that, in the excitement, one of my tentacles was becoming detached, putting me in danger of dropping to the lowly rank of
octopus (Yuck! What would my parents think?).
During the walk back to my car, the city sounds around me were somehow... different. The gushing water under a sewer grate enveloped my headspace, and somewhere off in the distance above a towering skyscraper boomed a strobing, whirring noise. These noises, which normally I wouldn't give a second thought to, took on a musical quality and served as little souvenirs to the sonic miracle that I was just a part of.
At this point I must confess that I was extremely tired, having not gotten a lot of sleep the previous night. My ability to stay awake driving home was questionable, and I became a bit anxious. After an hour on the road, I began getting the blinks - a dire indication that I needed to stop. I pulled into a Motel 6 and, not wanting to pay money for a room, started to doze off against the windshield in the parking lot. I put Pullhair Rubeye (the un-reversed version) on loop. Opis Helpus kept waking me up with the screeching "Each daaaaay I shred out" part. I was paranoid about people coming up to my window. Sleep came in sudden bursts that seemed only an instant long. Whenever I woke up, I had the frightened urge to drive off, but at the same time I knew I was too tired to do so. This lasted for about two hours until, after jolting awake from someone walking their dog past my car, I decided it as time to leave. Lots of coffee kept me awake for the remainder of the journey.
How hollow the recordings of Animal Collective sound right now after having just seen them live. Unfortunately, they will have to do though until next time.
Thanks everyone for being so awesome and energetic! I'm glad we all got to experience this together.
