Church, V.2.0

i've been spending quite a bit of time in the car as of late. driving, circling the new city (sharking, as an old friend of mine called reconnoitering), looking for a place to put myself and the famille nouveau. that, plus my regular commute. don't get me wrong, i kind of like the commute... i've never had one before, and the stretch is straight, not too long, and offers quiet time with the mp3 player and my own brain for company.

i've discovered that moving into a college town at the beginning of semester can be:

1. expensive
2. irritating, as the availability/quality of housing can be really thin/picked over
3. exhausting.

i needed a break, with some real 'remove myself from it all' benefits. and the availability of a world city an hour away offered me exactly the suspension of disbelief that this old cynic required: an evening with Alan and Mimi.

i'm not quite sure where my fascination with Low came from. mostly, i'm thinking it has to do with the otherworldly vocal harmonies, used with surgical precision. if the surgeon was made of a misty cloud of water vapor. or something. this kind of music can only be authored and performed by people truly joined at the brain. Alan and Mimi have known each other since they were 9, were married, are raising (and i believe, home-schooling) their beautiful children, and throughout it all, have been making music together. for their whole lives.

a Low concert seems to be a nearly-spiritual event for those who attend. defying modern concert atmosphere conventions, there isn't any obnoxious behaviour. nobody's wasted. the audience is quiet, as to hear the music fully. enthusiastic, honest applause after songs. one could hear the bartenders, way at the back of the room, quietly talking to each other. this show was in an interesting club, very small, and i found that it was much more conducive to their alternately hushed and overdriven music. First Avenue in Minneapolis is big, fun, and loud, but it didn't seem like the kind of place that a band that regularly performs in church sanctuaries would fit best. from the softest harmonies to harsh and snarling overdriven guitars, the sound and atmosphere was perfect. thanks, Low.

when i was picking up some fresh schwag for the Beautiful Boy and The Fabulous Girlfriend, the merch guy saw my old twins cap, and quickly put his on as well. "even if the twins have given up, it doesn't mean that we have to, right?"

a twelve hour shift awaited me, after a 90 minute drive from portland to eugene. it didn't matter. i was, for lack of a better definition, spiritually recharged. now i'll find that house. and it will be.