Year of Concerts
The fall of 2018 began a year of concerts. Strangely enough, these concerts often fell within a week of me leaving and returning from the US. Music became the bookends of a whirlwind year of adventures. Most of these concerts I attended with my sister, Claire. A few years ago, if you would have told me she would become a prolific concert attendee, I would have questioned your sanity. In high school, Claire overcame some massive challenges, fighting for health and happiness through dark seasons. Loud music and bright lights with crowds of people was easily her least favorite thing. But, as she says, music saved her.
Kevin Garrett, always.
Her knowledge of music is incredible. Now, she attends all the concerts she can, staying until the final encore. Watching her dance and sing along to the boys with long hair rocking on electric guitars, she is obviously so happy–a happy at one point I wasn’t sure would be possible. She is my favorite concert buddy.
Claire and I began the year of concerts with NEEDTOBREATHE and Johnnyswim in September 2018 immediately after I returned from Uganda. The Greek theater is a fabulous venue, perfect for the pleasant fall night. NEEDTOBREATHE songs are sentimental. The Reckoning album came out when I was in high school. My friends and I would drive through suburbia with our newfound freedom belting “Drive All Night” and “Keep Your Eyes Open.” The tracks “Multiplied” and “Difference Maker” from Rivers and Wastelands were anthems for my study abroad cohort in South Africa. Johnnyswim is forever one of my favorites to see live, and their opener was no disappointment.
Watching both NEEDTOBREATHE and Johnnyswim effortlessly share their hearts through music left so many people in tears. Hands were raised in worship; people were praying together and hugging strangers that looked so opposite from themselves. It was a holy concert.
Before I went to Uganda this March, Claire and I saw Gavin James in San Francisco, CA. It was a rainy day in the bay. We drank coffee at Bluestone Lane, walked through the Ferry Building, took in the street art of the Mission District, and ate at Souvla which arguably has the best Greek frozen yogurt ever. Forest Blakk opened for Gavin James at The Chapel. Blakk also opened for NEEDTOBREATHE and a few months later I saw him at Salt & Straw in LA, a hilarious reoccurring presence in this concert year.
Gavin James’ lyrics remind me of heartache and hope. His live tracks far outrank his studio records and I was annoyed at people talking during this concert. Concerts where it’s mainly just the artist and a guitar, as it was for Gavin James, are especially beautiful to me because the musicianship is so evident.
I returned from Uganda in April and two days later was at a Switchfoot concert with Claire. When I say concerts were bookends, I truly mean it. Arriving at a massive line wrapping around the block of The Wiltern in LA, I discovered I had dressed exactly like everyone else. Black pants, Converse, and a jean jacket. It was uncanny. Claire laughed at me for a good five minutes. Colony House opened, another sentimental band as two of the band members are the sons of Steven Curtis Chapman. I grew up on “Saddle Up your Horses” and “Dive” (if you know, you know). Caleb Chapman brought his son out on stage, saying it was his son’s first time on stage with dad, and I about lost it. One of the best things about music is the way it transcends generations.
Switchfoot puts on an incredible show. Hearing them live allowed me to reflect on lyrics and identify threads connecting their 20+ years of music. Themes like hope, finding purpose in life, and living for something more. After having just returned from a month in Uganda building a public health education program, this concert was like a balm for my tired soul. I was unsure if anything meaningful was actually accomplished in Uganda (spoiler alert, it was, and the best part is my team in Uganda accomplished all the goals we set out to achieve in March). Jon Foreman singing, “love alone is worth the fight” and, “hope's a seed you have to sow / when you let it go it comes to life” reminded me the work I did was not in vain.
In May, I saw Kevin Garrett at The Troubadour. I convinced my friend Hannah the day of to go with me. This last-minute decision did not disappoint either of us. The Troubadour is the GOAT of concert venues, and Kevin Garrett might be the same for singer-songwriters. I never tire of his music. His piano playing is perfectly simple. I think everyone’s eyes welled up when he played, “Like We Used To” and said, “I haven’t been able to get through this song the whole tour until last night.” The Troubadour was his second to last venue.
After this show, I sat at the piano for hours trying to play, “Like We Used To” even remotely like he did. Concerts are especially effective when they drive me back to the piano for hours on end. Those 88 keys have been a constant in my life for as long as I can remember. Watching someone like Kevin Garret reminds me there is so much more to play than the 1, 4, 5 chords regularly used for worship songs.
On a beach in San Diego, I saw Switchfoot again in July before traveling the country for a month. They were still incredible. My cousin and his girlfriend joined me. We ate snow cones and got sunburned, it was glorious.
September 2019, Claire and I returned from Uganda with terribly messed up stomachs and extreme exhaustion. Nonetheless, we went to John Mayer at The Forum a few days later. Our stomachs seized in pain on the drive, but we made it. A drunk guy commented on how tiny and cute my Casio watch is and John Mayer played, “In Your Atmosphere” acoustic, Claire’s top desire to see live. He is legendary and he brings throngs of people of all demographics to his shows.
Right after Claire moved to Los Angeles in October, we saw The Band Camino at El Rey Theater. She rolled up in her work out clothes with a jean vest thrown on top looking like a model after a long day of work and stood for another 4 hours for the concert. Her dedication to music is the best. We got really cute black long-sleeved band tees. Most shows we go to, she sees the band merch and says, “Oh no, take all my money.”
Lastly, in November, I saw Charley Crockett at The Troubadour. This time not with Claire, but I really tried to convince her to come. Abraham Alexander opened, he and Charley are both from Fort Worth, Texas, and Leon Bridges joined on stage. Charley sang of Texas and love and my birth city, Chattanooga, TN. A Texas flag was draped over the keyboard and it all was reminiscent of my journey across the US this summer. My friend, Rob introduced me to Charley and invited me to the concert. He likes to remind me frequently of how deep the ‘Americana’ culture is in my blood. Singing along to boot stompin’ songs in Los Angeles on a Sunday night is the perfect expression of this.
All in all, it was an obviously perfect year of music. A lot because of the music, but a lot because of the people I went with.
