out in the world again

Last night I went out into the world again. I found myself in a sultry sweat amongst a jumping, swaying, cheerful crowd of young and old who had come to see David Byrne and St. Vincent perform at the State Theater in Portland, Maine. I spent the entire evening standing next to Michael getting my groove on with a huge smile on my face. On my other side were two women who were younger than some of the songs that were played. Lights glinted off of a battery of brass: tuba, flugelhorn, trumpet, French horn, saxophone and trombone. When the woman next to me mentioned that she was hot I gave her a hairband. Her companion shielded her eyes from the strobes, which made me wonder if she had epilepsy.

Behind us a woman in her sixties got a full bottle of water dumped on her head by a shrew-of-a-woman who thought she was cutting in front. The rude act of self-righteousness and entitlement—at a general admission rock concert, no less—sickened me, but the music moved me out and into another place, one of fantasy and spectacle and harmony.

The musicians, all with big smiles on their faces, played until eleven, including two encores. Out in the crowd people went nuts with applause, stomping feet, whistling and calling, and I lost myself, if only for a few hours.

If you cannot view the video please click here to view it on You Tube.