Listen to my tale of ire and woe, all ye who care to warm yourselves by my fire this cold and damp eventide.
Here’s the sitch:* In my sophomore year at a fine institution several states south of here, I attended a free outdoor concert on Earth Day. The day was warm, the sun was strong, and I enjoyed churros and tie dye stations before dancing my patooche off to Passion Pit.
Upon reflection, I thought, “Man, that free outdoor concert was fun. I would even pay to do that!”
And so the following year I did pay to do that. I went to the Bushstock Festival in London, where I saw Darwin Deez and Yelle. But the weather was not so kind to me this time. Alas, in true London form it was 50 degrees and pouring rain. I smiled through my shivers, and still managed to sing along to “Radar Detector.”
The following year, I decided that bad things never come in twos — surely it wouldn’t rain when I attended the Sweetlife festival in Washington, DC. On festival morning, I looked at the grey sky and crossed my fingers, thinking, this can’t possibly happen to me twice! I don’t deserve it! And yet, the rain fell on my shoulders as I watched The Shins and Kid Cudi take the stage.
Still, I had not learned my lesson. I moved back to my hometown, and thought it nothing short of miraculous that the year of my move was the year of the first Boston Calling music festival. Nowhere has nicer and more predictable weather than New England in May, I thought naively as I bought my tickets. And yet, here I am, on festival weekend, looking at a forecast for two straight days of rain.
I think it’s me.
It’s like my Sisyphus punishment. Except I’m not quite sure what I’m being punished for. Maybe spending all my money on concert tickets.
But I’ve gotten pretty good at dancing my troubles away in the rain with a cold beer in my hand. And I’m pretty excited about the bumpin’ lineup for this weekend, especially considering it’s the first year of the festival. Here are a few of the songs I’m hoping to hear.
I’m late to the party, everyone. But I feel like I just discovered Portugal. The Man. And, I mean, I guess they’re pretty good. I mean listen to this strummy, dreamy, drummy melody with notes of piano and extasy! It’s the perfect song to go for a bike ride to in the summer. Or better yet, run through the sprinkler to. I’m not one for physical exertion.
Matt & Kim is my spirit band. They dance to Major Lazer between songs, drum like their intention is to dislocate their arms, and swear like sailors. This will be the third time I’ve seen Matt & Kim in concert, which I guess makes me kind of a groupie. It’s not something I ever expected, but I’m cool with it. I don’t think I’ve ever seen them play “Where You’re Coming From” live. I’d certainly like to.
Listening to The Shins reminds me of first learning about music, and really thinking that I knew a lot about it. For instance, isn’t the Garden State soundtrack a great place to get all your music? But that soundtrack did introduce me to The Shins, so I can’t be mad about it. I’d love to hear “Australia” this weekend, that, sweetly sung by James Mercer, made me my happiest at 17.
If it rains for Governor’s Ball next month, I will execute every meteorologist on the East Coast. That’s a fact.
*How does one spell the abbreviation for “situation”? It’s a more complex question than I originally thought.