I ended up at a Reptar show during CMJ. I’d never heard of them and I’ll be honest, it was a rocky start. The band was playing like all members were marching to the beat of their own metronome. If Francis and the Lights weren’t up next I may have left.
Then they tightened up. Or maybe they started to sweat out all the JD they’d drank. Whichever it was, I was able to watch without wanting to leave.
Then something else happened. People started dancing. I should rephrase, a select group of 15 to 20 people started dancing in a way that was most reminiscent of the ‘dance like nobody’s watching’ style. They were going bonkers for this band. Really, bonkers. They were chanting. The room was decently full, but only a fraction of the people were dancing like this, and it seemed they were all in some way connected to the band’s hometown, Athens, GA, the chants rising from a place of hometown pride.
Then it dawned on me. Those people dancing were me years ago. Their friends were my friends. Finkle IS Einhorn. I immediately bbm’ed an old friend from uni with this revelation. Something to the effect of: “Dear GOD! Remember when we all used to hit the dance floor like we were the only people in the bar? I’m now one of the other people, one of the people standing at the back of the bar drinking a soda and enjoying the show, and I’m now realizing just how insane we must have looked. And also remembering why we all stopped drinking gin.”
Then another thing happened. I realized that this song was in it’s own way, awesome.
And once again ladies and gentleman, we have an example of why I love music. Sure, I love it because it makes me dance. I love it because it just sounds so darn good. But I think I love it most for the ability it has to transport me back to a moment in time. I don’t want to talk about the music, that’s boring. I want to talk about the things that happen when we listen to music.
“Houseboat Babies” by Reptar.