A couple of nights ago, hubs and I saw City and Colour at Rogers Arena in Vancouver. I'm not much for crowds, but I can't pass up a night of good music. It's kind of what I live for, actually. The collective effervescence of an attuned, gooey-eyed concert crowd is incomparable. The greatest performers can effortlessly bond a group of strangers through a vivid retelling of what it means to be human. No matter what the songs mean to us personally, we somehow have a brief understanding that we're all just walking each other home, baby.
When I was younger, I'd travel long and far just to see my favourite musicians in person. It's hard to believe that there was a period of three years where I didn't attend any live concerts whatsoever. Of course this is when my son was still a baby / toddler and breastfeeding on the regular, and then Covid hit. I had a legitimate excuse to be confined to nearby locations for nights out. In the past two years, I've been making up for it in earnest, dragging my husband to whatever Indie-folk concert I can squeeze in.
This time it was his idea. Hubs is a huge Dallas Green fan, often reminisicing on his Alexisonfire days. Instead of exchanging Christmas presents, we bought tickets to City and Colour. We aren't big on gifting each other material items, so we seek out experiences instead. All in all, it was a perfect night where I got to dress up, be the prettiest thing in the dive bar, and then spend time with my love watching one of Canada's musical greats perform one hell of a show.
This concert felt special. When it comes to soulful indie, nobody does it better than Dallas Green. The eager crowd participation, the soft glow of illuminated faces amid his heavenly voice, the inherent equanimity. From his opener, "Meant to Be", until the very last of a three song encore, "Sleeping Sickness" (only missing a sweet harmony of the late Gord Downie) it was perfection.
Some women like jewellery and flowers. I prefer music. Every time.