Behind us, thousands of people who came to Boston’s House of Blues to see the Phantogram show are waiting in the darkness. Everyone is thrilled and full of expectations. The soundcheck is taking forever when suddenly the lights go out just to illuminate energetic Sarah Barthel and Josh Carter seconds later. My DSLR is glued to my face and I’m filling the memory stick with hundreds of pictures. Working as a photographer is stressful. The smallest hesitation can lead to missing the perfect moment when the bodies of performers are arranged in the lights and turn the stage into a dramatic play of shadows. Josh is showing off with his guitar, bouncing from one side of the stage to the other, all with flawless technique and feeling. Sarah’s airy vocals almost make me cry. The entire hall is rocking and I am five feet away from the action.
The show is coming to its end and before the encore, the duo talks about their beginnings when they played in a small Boston’s pub called The Great Scott. The way to the top is usually intriguing, especially in music career. Imagine the following. You get together a couple of friends and start a band. You have good ideas and inspiration. You jot down some songs while drinking the morning coffee or write others on a ticket in a museum. Coordination is a problem, rehearsals are irregular at the drummer’s garage, but you manage to record a short EP and want to start performing. The problem is, except for maybe fifteen classmates who are willing to support your vibes, no one knows you. So you become a part of the underground culture, play with similarly unknown bands in abandoned warehouses, funky basements, suburban porches in Jamaica Plain, or living rooms of grandparents who left for Florida for the weekend. You live off donations which you split after the shows and everyone gets their six dollars. After a while, an acquaintance lets you play in a small local music club. Three or four shows later, you record a full length album, get some gas money and hit the road to tour the east coast. At that point, your success is about luck. You will probably get back to play in small clubs and grandparents’ living rooms. But maybe someone important will notice you and you will reach the stars like Arctic Monkeys or The Black Keys. Are you still going to be passionate about having original ideas or is your production going to become the slave of the producers’ demands?
I have noticed that many local bands seemed not to aspire to fame and great tours. I was puzzled. Who wouldn’t want to see the world and speak to the whole country through their melodies? The Phantogram show gave me the answer. Don’t get me wrong, I most certainly enjoyed the concert very much, it was a deep emotional experience. However, the experience was also extremely individual, which is a general problem of big gigs. Everyone is on their own moving in the rhythm, selfishly absorbing the harmony in their own internal selves only. Thousands of people experience the same magical tingling, but they never achieve a collective connection. All the lights and moves on the stage are in a way means to dissociate from the audience: it is impossible to satisfy the people’s needs if you have an enormously big hall densely packed. Just before Sarah left the stage, she thanked the audience and said that the night was her favorite show of the tour. The day after, she was about to say the exact same words fifty miles north.
The underground scene is based on a group of people, who get together to discover new ideas and to support artists in their beginnings. No matter what the venue is – an abandoned warehouse, a funky basement, a suburban porch, grandparents’ living room – an intimate connection among everyone is guaranteed. It is a community where close friendships and love are formed. It is a place where everyone is welcome. For a short moment, everyday problems cease to exist. Differences between people go away and complete strangers sit on the floor and hold hands. This is the place where music is not made for fame and money. The purpose is to tell a story.
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