“Hello. We are Best Coast. We’re excited to be here to play some songs for you. Thanks for coming out on this Sunday evening to see us.”At the concerts I usually attend, such an opening declaration usually does not turn heads. Though these words are certainly not void of sentiment and significance, they do tend to be more routine and ritual. They signify the beginning of a set; they allow the lead singer to kill the awkward tension while the guitarist tunes his instrument; they are a final beckon to rally the audience away from the bar (three dollar, 24-oz PBRs in hand) and towards the stage. They may rouse some excitement about the start of the show, but these words certainly do not turn heads.
On September 12, 2010, this claim would’ve proven itself yet again true, had I found myself at the Cannery Ballroom. However, I was across town at the Exit-In. After much consideration (which is required when these rare scheduling conflicts occur), I had deliberately chosen to see the lesser-known but equally up-and-coming indie band “The Love Language” that night instead of Best Coast. Unfortunately, though, not many other music fans had come to this same decision – there were only thirteen of us at the Exit-In that night. The Love Language band members certainly recognized the situation, thus inspiring the joke. I certainly appreciated their sense of humor, as did the rest of the crowd. Although their introduction as Best Coast (ha) instinctively raised a few eyebrows, it ultimately garnered laughs from all of us in attendance – thus setting a congenial tone for the show. The best part? Things only got better from there.
I had high hopes for the Love Language, as I had fallen in love with a couple of tracks off of their recently released sophomore album, “Libraries,” over the summer. Although I already had high expectations, their show still managed to take me by surprise – in a good way! I have to admit, I was not sure at first, mainly because of the incredibly low attendance. I love that the Exit-In is a bit more “intimate” and usually isn’t that packed, but seriously – thirteen people? (To put this number into context: out of these thirteen people in attendance, four were members of the opening band, and two were parents of the opening band’s lead singer, as the opening band was from Nashville.) I was already nervous because I had dragged two of my non-concert-going friends to this show. I am quite personal about my music and feel like any recommendation that I make is a reflection of my own good judgment and opinion, so I was really hoping they would like the concert. Needless to say, arriving to a practically empty Exit-In did not quell this fear.
As soon as the Love Language went on, though, my doubts were appeased. I quickly realized that they are a band that sounds even better live – a gem of a quality that I love to stumble across when checking out a new band. Structurally, the band is made up of two guitarists, a bass player, a keyboardist/tambourine player, and a drummer. The drummer was quite curious; he can best be described as a crossbreed of Shaggy (from Scooby Doo) and a rugby player/rower. He reminded me of Shaggy because he had that same “my-hair-is-too-long-and-thus-will-hang-in-my-face,” beard, and goofy/dopey combination going on. However, this served as a stark contrast to his build – he was quite large, standing (easily) over 6’3”, and he wore a tank top that did nothing to hide his large biceps/arms (thus the rugby player/rower similarities). Though his appearance was interesting enough, perhaps his most “curious” aspect was his drumming style. To preface: I always like watching the drummers of bands, especially during songs that are more intensive/complicated/beat–ridden. Each drummer seems to have his own style of keeping the band’s rhythm, and I appreciate noticing this. However, this being said, I’ve never really walked away from a concert, thinking, “Wow… that drummer may have stolen the show.” And yet this is precisely the first thing my friends and I talked about as we made the trek back to campus once the concert was over. To us mere observers, it seemed like “keeping the beat” was a coincidental by-product of the drummer’s desire to frenetically bang away at the drums (just like a seven-year-old who just got his first drum kit from Santa). There was just something quite magnetic about his presence and performance. It was so compelling to just sit there and stare at the drummer!
However, to dwell any further on him could potentially be misleading about the balance of musical talent (or implied lack thereof) between band members. Towards the end of the concert, just when I began to conclude that the drummer was my favorite member of the band, the lead singer made his strike. After finishing up a song, he glanced at the set list and then muttered a few words to the other band members. They responded with nods, giving him permission to deviate from whatever they had originally scheduled. What happened next was something I was not prepared for. Instead of launching into a full-on song, the lead singer began to sing one of their songs sans instruments, while the rest of the band stood back in the shadows and watched on with the audience. He started off quite softly, cupping his hands around his mouth. As he reached the chorus, he began to project more, ending very loudly with his arms thrown wide open and his head tilted a bit towards the ceiling, as if singing praises to the gods.
Though the lead singer had sounded great all night, our mouths all dropped open a bit when we heard him sing a capella. His own vocal performance isolated, we all realized how talented of a singer he is. His voice was arresting; I felt shivers running up and down my back multiple times while listening to him sing. This is something I’d expect if I were at the concert of singer well-known for his/her voice. However, on this night, I didn’t even see it coming; rarely have I felt so transfixed by a singer’s voice – especially when belonging to the unknown singer of a practically unknown band. His control of his voice was quite impressive; he was able to manipulate his sound when singing different parts of the song. I particularly remembering him matching the clarity of his pitch and tone to the significance of the lyrics he was singing. I cannot recall much else about his performance, because in that moment, I was so completely enthralled with his singing. At that moment, making an effort to actually remember seemed much less vital than focusing on being in the moment completely. And then, much too soon, it was gone; his band joined him starting with the second verse and the remainder of the song. I was snapped out of the spell I was under just as quickly as I was lured into it. Glancing around at my friends to see if they had just witnessed the same feelings, I was relieved to see that they too had to take a couple of deep breathes and blink their eyes a few times. They were obviously similarly engrossed in the moment.
The other band members were also talented and enthusiastic, although no other truly “musical” moments stood out quite like the one I just described. However, there was one other time during the concert that was quite special and made my personal experience so great. Three songs into the set, I was quite excited to hear one of my favorites off of their album. Although I did not know all of the lyrics, I sang along quietly for as much of the song as I knew. Because the concert was so empty, my four friends and I were able to stand quite close to the stage, distancing ourselves from the band by only by four or five feet. Apparently, the bassist had been watching me sing, because upon completing the song, he went up to the microphone and spoke for the first time that night. “Wow, someone actually knows some of our lyrics… that’s awesome!” he stated, glancing at me. I felt my face begin to flush, which only deepened as one of my friends held his hand up in the air, pointing at me and saying in a low voice, “Megan…” My other friends let out a couple of laughs and smiled at me, pleased to know that I was enjoying myself. Later on, after the show, we were hanging around and talking to the band at their merchandise table. The bassist approached me and said, “Sorry, I didn’t meant to completely call you out like that… you stopped singing the lyrics after that!” I explained to him that my lack of continued singing was more a function of my not knowing the songs; I had only recently become a fan and only knew the lyrics to two songs of theirs. “Ok, just as long as I didn’t make you feel embarrassed! I thought it was awesome that you knew our stuff!”
I went to the Love Language’s concert with high hopes, and was greatly pleased to find that reality far exceeded what I could’ve imagined. The Love Language proved to be a fantastic live band. They were musically gifted – realized both through demonstrations of personal talent as well as through their strong songs with powerful lyrics. And the show was so much more than a concert. It was not merely the Love Language showing up to perform for those in the crowd. Instead, the experience was so much more personal; the band was friendly and engaging and relatable.
Watching the Love Language is akin to being invited to watch a good friend’s band rehearse some new numbers live – especially when the band is great and you come away thinking, “Wow, I feel privileged to have been a part of that, because these guys are really going places.” Though at first I was nervous about the small crowd, I feel selfish admitting that I ended up being glad that no one else came out. The intimate atmosphere played a large role in shaping the experience for me, and I do not wish to imagine that it could’ve been any different than it was.
Sometimes, live performances possess a special magical power to transform mere music into something more. Such occurrences can bring people together and inspire emotion in a way few other things can. These days, I often find myself highly stressed, like I am constantly battling the furies of a storm. Music is one of the few things that I can take solace in; much like the eye of the storm, it brings a sense of calmness and being and equilibrium to a life that is otherwise defined by its confusion and hecticness.
I was hoping that seeing the Love Language live at the Exit-In would be a quick escape from day-to-day life. I went hoping it would put a smile on my face, as concerts often do. And yet it did so much more. The Love Language did put a smile on my face, then swept me off my feet and left me speechless. I truly believe this band is going places and is here to stay. Of course, I would highly recommend their album music. And when luck and circumstance collide, I hope you will consider seeing them live; it’s for your own good! It was quite an experience for me and I only hope that others can take pleasure in having a similarly fantastic experience.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, after the concert, there was no doubt in my mind: I definitely chose the right band to see that Sunday night in late September.
Link: Live @ Exit/In:
Heart to Tell clip
Link: Live @ Exit/In:
HorophonesLink: Live on KEXP:
Brittany's Back (toned-down)
Link: Music Video:
Heart to Tell (Merge Records version)
Did you miss the Love Language's Fall 2010 tour? Check them out during their
Spring 2011 tour!
Josh Pyke is no newcomer in the world of music, but he may be an artist who has yet to make his debut onto your personal music scene. If this is the case, please read on! Through extensive research (i.e. talking with many friends and music fans and finding not even one other person who has heard of him), I have concluded that he is essentially unknown in America. Why this is – I do not know. So read on, take it in, and most importantly – listen up to one of Australia’s best kept secrets!
Josh Pyke hails from Australia, where he has been writing and performing his own songs for quite some time now. Each of his CDs and EPs is completely listenable front-to-back, as each song is fantastic in its own right. He presents warm, consuming melodies that will remind you why you love music to begin with. Remember that simple, childlike expectation of love that you once held, that has along the way become diluted and assumingly unattainable? We go dancing at night to conjured Top 40 hits, in hopes that we claim reclaim these feelings, even if only for five minutes. Josh Pyke takes us a step farther. On songs like “Make You Happy,” 
“Forever Song,” and “Sew My Name,” Josh sings with such a genuine spirit that he re-inspires the notion altogether! Yet don’t expect all unicorns and rainbows, because Josh doesn’t shy away from tackling tougher issues. “The Summer” (a personal favorite of mine, even two years later) is reminiscent of love lost, while “Our House Breathing” realizes the challenges of love while on the road. With the risk of sounding cheesy, I’ll say that Josh succeeds in inspiring us in many ways – he inspires emotion, faith, and living in general. 
that they had written the song first so they could win the girl). Examples: John Mayer is the leader in his fields – acoustic guitar (previously) and blues-y electric guitar (currently). Jack Johnson dominates the surfer guitar music. Mason Jennings has established a sound within the folk-sy guitar genre, just as Dave Matthews has in his own eclectic version of jam music. There are many other leading male artists out there who may also fit this bill – especially once we expand our lineup to include men who are creative leaders of bands instead of just through solo efforts (I’m thinking Ben Gibbard, James Mercer, Kevin Barnes, Julian Casablancas?). Most importantly, these many artists all share a similar crown. Regardless of whether their music receives radio airplay and is recognized by the Grammy committee, or instead is appreciated by a loyal band of ‘underground’ listeners – these artists all stand out. A new artist on the scene wants to be the next Dave, or John, or whomever. These men can truly be looked to as the current day leaders within each of their respected genres. 
So now let me proclaim it again: Josh Pyke is truly a master of his own domain and fits nicely into this category of popular and established-sounding male singer/songwriters. What exactly would his sound be labeled as? I am not exactly sure. Pop-rock? Beachy? Singer-songwriter? Though I personally struggle to define his genre, I can say that his music is enjoyable music. But do not just take my word for it – listen for yourself to arrive at your own conclusions.
Additionally, if you do decide to check him out, please do not brush him off immediately if he does not meet your high standards for musical genius. Sure, he does not stand out as a cutting-edge creative musical innovator, like Animal Collective. Nor will he go down in history as a prophetic lyricist like Bob Dylan or Leonard Cohen. He is a bit safe. Yet just when you may write him off for sounding familiar, you’ll stumble across a more revealing moment. Perhaps this is best exemplified in his song “Middle of the Hill,” from his debut album Memories & Dust. The song starts as a sentimental tale remembering childhood; it comes off as a bit commonplace and trite. But at the very end of the song, Josh reveals what it all means when he begins to recite the song’s thesis: “I don’t pay enough attention to the good things when I’ve got them.” And suddenly, it all makes sense. 
Day-to-day, Josh Pyke’s music pleases, so live in the moment. Check him out before another day goes by. He is a nice homebody from Australia and truly is representative of what a strong singer-songwriter. Josh Pyke rocks!
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