Walking in, there was already a band playing. Large drums, great musicality, and suddenly, I was listening more to The Royal Teeth than I was wondering who this was. They were mesmerizing. They were young, They interacted with the crowd. They sounded vaguely like someone I'd heard before, but of course, I hadn't. But that was OK. The hook was already set. I liked them.
But when ZZ Ward hit the stage, I quit making small talk. I quit worrying about people cutting in front of me on the way to the bathroom. She was blues in the backroom, energy, tight lyrics, but an old soul.
ZZ Ward playing The Music Farm. Photo by Holly Thorpe |
But finally, the crowd favorite came on. Fitz and the Tantrums took the stage, and the capacity crowd was ecstatic. People around me knew every lyric to every song. They held their hands up; they waved their beer bottles in the sky; they cheered at every ending.
The band had just come from Bonnaroo, straight from actually, and while they were musically on their game, there wasn't a lot of small talk, but everything sounded like studio quality -- or better. They are not a movement, or a scene, or anything else. They play music, and lots of people liked their music.
Their sounds is at once modern and retro, and beyond just their hit "Moneygrabber." It's out of space and time, really, the sound of Saturday night when the moon is high and you're ready to leave the house. There is a chemistry there, a promise of something more, something you can't help but notice. It may be shouting or it may be kissing, but there's really not that much difference between them. It was Saturday night after all.
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