It was a night for dreamers. If you were there, you’re going to remember this show for the rest of your life (especially me, but more on that later). The crowd slowly trickled in to fill the sold out 9:30 club to the rafters. In the stilled moments leading up to Edward Sharpe, it was ass to ankles from bar to bar. You had your spot, your beer(s) and you weren’t going anywhere.
This concert developed with an air of mystery for me. I
knew loved the hits and crushed Alex Ebert’s solo album. But beyond that, I was lost. In the end, none of that mattered. Edward Sharpe delivered an energy and sound that it is near impossible to match in a live setting. This can mostly be attributed to the twelve piece band that plays everything. Literally everything.
Together, their sound rose as a deafening crescendo that inherited the energy of everything in its path. My ears are still ringing with their sweet, beautiful melodies. The motion and power of the crowd was merely an extension of the stage itself. And I mean this quite literally. Alex came out into the crowd on multiple occasions to be with his people. The air surrounding Ebert’s performance transformed onlookers instantly.