If there’s one thing that has always brought my wife and me together, it’s live music. In fact, long before we started dating, we were actually best friends who found early on that we had a shared love for so many of the same bands—even to the point where the two of us would go out to shows together while the guy she was dating at the time stayed home. (Not a thing I’d be cool with MY girlfriend doing, but I wasn’t about to complain.)
We cranked it up to 11 once we were officially a couple, seeing virtually every band that came through Phoenix, blowing out our ears and checking off our bucket list at every opportunity. And so it was only fitting for me to propose to her a few months later in the most romantic setting known to man—a Shins show.
Having kids has made it harder to make it out, but live shows are still our go-to date night—our way to justify to the humans we’ve made that we need a night away. They don’t always love it when we leave, but have also come to understand that if Mom and Dad don’t get to see Wilco when they’re in town, NOBODY’S happy.
It’s our way of escaping the frustrations of the world for a little while—to feel like kids again, without a care in the world; to let the songs we love take the wheel and elevate us to a higher plane of existence where we don’t have to pay bills or figure out dinner or circle back via email to check on the status of the project.
And so as you can probably imagine, COVID hit us pretty hard. Not because we would miss social events or going into the office or restaurants or bars. No, our first moment of dread when the world was shutting down for a while was not knowing when we’d ever see a show again. It was an excruciating wait, but with long-coveted vaccines pulsing through our veins we were finally able to rejoin “the scene” when the Cold War Kids came to The Van Buren, our favorite venue, in September 2021–which felt like it was meant to be because we’d also seen them at the The Van Buren’s inaugural show back in 2017. Our elation culminated in an impromptu interpretive dance spanning at least twenty feet in diameter by the bar as the band tore through “Hang Me Up to Dry.”
Now, on most days, if Brandon Flowers were to ask me point-blank whether I am human or dancer, I would likely say “human,” but that night, the excitement of being at a real live actual show after being stuck at home for a year and a half joined forces with gallons of liquid courage and although what came out probably would not receive top scores on So You Think You Can Dance, it sure felt amazing.
It is in this exact spirit that I present “And Ever After,” a song celebrating the sheer joy, escapism, and release that can only come from you and your favorite person screaming along while your favorite artist tears up the stage.
Time stands still.
Endorphins flow.
Catharsis smiles.
Hope restores.
…At least until the lights come back on.