The Antlers play the Metro Gallery in Baltimore, and we're all in the hospital
Yet another Brooklyn group is making the pilgrimage to SXSW, but this one decided to stop in Baltimore on their way down. They’re called the Antlers and they have a new album out called Hospice.
Before the show I ran into a man, destitute, who spewed the same old story involving bus stations and bad fortune. I didn’t believe a word, but I gave him two dollars. I don’t usually. But I realized tonight that we are all in debt; we are all terminally ill. We are all living in a hospice of our own fashion. Tonight, the Metro Gallery in Baltimore, run by the most hospitable couple, served as the perfect shelter from the storm outside. People sat on the floor and talked to each other. People listened. It is my hope that people healed as well.
The Antlers seem young to me, and hopefully I didn’t insult them too much when I observed that they are “just starting out.” What I meant to say is that so much lies ahead, for me as well. But these lads are noticeably younger than me, and what’s more they’re in that time when things just click. I asked them what impressions stick with them regarding the making of Hospice. Darby Cicci (keyboards, banjo, trumpet, and a side-project called Minus Green) just grinned and blurted out how pleased he was with the record. Peter Silberman (vocals, guitars, songs, and a half dozen other instruments) cited it as a transition between solo work and a more collaborative effort, and the word that stuck was “enjoyment.” Sharing his songs and watching them form organically around him (“I never told anyone what to play”) brought him enjoyment and surprise. “It was the first project I had been involved in where, looking back, I wouldn’t change a thing.”
I’m just starting out with this record, so I carry with me only vague impressions of recovery rooms, bad breaks, dark, moldy rooms, hibernation, and a striking image of “hundreds of thousands of hospital beds, and all of them empty but mine.” Man, what I’d have given to have written that line. I don’t yet hear the rejoicing and the wonder, but I have a feeling that might be coming up soon. Their cover of Neil Young’s “Harvest Moon” seemed an odd choice but does hint toward a more fulfilled, joyous place. I also have a feeling that, as I have time to let this album circulate in my bloodstream, there may be more to come on this blog. I may be writing about some more specific hospital rooms.
“We are all terminally ill. We are all living in a hospice of our own fashion”? Seriously?
Should I be concerned or something? And, ahem, not to disagree or anything, but you only die once, we live in an infinite present, and freedom is the absence of a hospice. And you’re not in a hospice. You’re in this fantastic living space in Baltimore, experiencing good music every damned day. Try to keep that in mind. Put on “The Runners Four” or something. You’ll definitely feel alive.
Whoa there, slow down old sport! I simply meant that we’re all gonna die someday. When you ruminate on that it explains a heck of a lot about our actions and motivations on a day-to-day basis. And we’re all fighting that losing battle against entropy, and our bodies do and will deteriorate. But I say that within a context of feeling enormously alive. ‘Cause you’re right. Seeing the Antlers last night was a wonderful experience. And tonight I just got my socks blown off by Vetiver and Beach House (would that I had time to blog it properly…). Tomorrow night I have a choice between Common and Marnie Stern. The infinite present, the Eternal Now, yes I live in that often. Always, infinitely. And Addie lives in the Eternal Meow. Staying home is a gas too.
Looking forward to the rerelease of Hospice in August, but I’m really loving their 2007 ep Cold War, complete with Beach House cover. Free download here.