It's September 4th, and for the first time in a long time I'm not in Singapore. I'm a million miles away, inside a concert hall, shoulder to sweaty shoulder with strangers. One of my favorite places and ways to be. I'm not sure where this concert hall is, but it's winter outside; I'm pretty sure of that. There's still a rime of chill clinging to my skin. At the end of the night, when I've danced until all of my muscles are shaking shaking and I finally go outside, then steam will rise off of my body.
I'm sure of this.
See, Boreas is out today. The latest EP by the Oh Hellos. In real life, as I walk to the chi-chi bar where I'm going to spend too much money on more beers than I want to drink, I have A Kindling, of Sorts playing in my ears. The first track. Instrumental, just shy of two minutes, plucky cords and sliding notes, and every time it starts to crescendo to the end I hit rewind and let it play again.
It keeps me in that concert hall, watching my favorite band. I can see it - the way the lights, magenta or blue or crayon green, will shimmer through the smoky air. The moving shadows as the crew does sound checks. The murmuring of the crowd around me, gently jostling each other, vying for a spot closer to the stage but in an amicable sort of way. A can and a half of cheap American beer thrumming in my veins.
When I listen to this song, I know what it will be like to see it live. This is partly because I've watched every Oh Hellos concert video that's on YouTube and because I saw them live ones, standing way too close to the stage for all of the ugly crying I did (I was going through some [stuff][Wisconsin Age]). Two minutes of viola on loop and I have hope again, real hope, for [the first time in months][hope!].