That's what I'm takking about!

"Hahaha. Hey guys, check this out!"

"You idiot. Put the bow down. We're trying to start a band here."

---

It's funny how my brain works.

Last Wednesday I saw Tilly and the Wall play at Union South. This was a paid show, which is unusual for Union South. What was really odd about this, to me, was the fact that I had never heard of Tilly and the Wall. I've usually heard of most of the bands that play at Union South, and I've never heard of a band that I've never heard of playing a paid show there. Hahaha...I'm leaving that sentence like that.

So anyway, I was intrigued by this Tilly and the Wall band, simply because I'd never heard of them. I decided to check them out, only to hear from the guy selling tickets at B-Side that the show was sold out. At this point I felt like I was really missing out on something, and I decided that I had to go. I went to the Union to see if I could get tickets, and they said that they had plenty left and that the guy at B-Side was nuts. I got tickets, but I was kind of bummed. The illusion that this band was gonna change my life quickly faded. (For the record, this band definitely did not change my life. More on that later, maybe.)

I had a similar situation tonight. I convinced myself that I had to go see Sigur Ros, or my life would be over. Keep in mind, I knew they were coming for months, and I knew tickets would sell out, but I made no effort to get them. I really didn't have a strong urge to see them, until I saw that tickets were selling for 75 dollars on eBay. I'm gonna go ahead and blame capitalism for this phenomenon.

So I bid on a few tickets, I emailed some people from craigslist who were selling tickets, but I was unable to get any. Showtime was approaching, and I was sad. Since I had nothing else planned, I figured I'd walk the four blocks to the Orpheum and see if I could get lucky; maybe someone had an extra ticket. I passed two members of the band, speaking in Icelandic, on the way to the venue, which just increased my crazy desire to see them.

When I got to the venue I found a guy selling a ticket for 40 bucks, which sounded like a steal to me. I got my wallet out, and realized I only had 10.

"Ah crap. Wait right here. I'm gonna go to the ATM at the corner. I'll be right back. Don't go anywhere," I said to this guy. I went to the ATM, and when I got back he was gone. I was crushed. I thought I had lost my chance.

I decided to wait a little while longer, as I saw dozens and dozens of people walk inside the venue. Those lucky f'ers. All of a sudden I saw a guy holding up a ticket.

"How much do you want for that," I asked him? (Is that punctuationally correct?)

"I dunnow. 22?"

I felt like I was hit by a truck.

I gave the guy 25, which was the original price of the ticket, and told him that he was my hero. I really wanted to hug him, but I managed to restrain myself to a handshake.

So I went inside and saw the show. The opening band was very good. I didn't catch their name, but they were four women that played probably a total of fifteen instruments. They had to struggle to get around each other, since the stage was full of a grand piano, a xylophone, a drum set, a stand for a string quartet, and a table with an iBook, bells, and other smaller instruments. Their music just kept building and building...it kind of made me feel wistful and introspective. I loved it. They also played with Sigur Ros, mainly adding strings, but also a little xylophone and keyboard.

When they were done, instead of playing music between bands, they played what sounded to me like a cello swelling, crescendoing and then decrescendoing over and over again. It was strangely beautiful. This was actually one of the least pretentious things the audience would experience for the rest of the night.

I believe Sigur Ros once claimed that they were going to "change music forever," but I never believed them. I've heard their records. I've enjoyed their records. But I never thought they were revolutionary, or even really that close. This show, however, was revolutionary. This was one of the best shows I've ever seen, and if it weren't for that nostalgic inertia that memories gain as they sit in your mind, it may have been the best show I've ever seen. From the moment I saw the silhouettes of a man playing a guitar with a bow and the drummer sitting idly (they played the first and last songs behind a translucent sheet), to the fading of the word "Takk..." on the screen behind the stage, thanking the audience for listening, I was in a trance. There was not a second when I wasn't absolutely stunned by what I was hearing, and, more often that not, what I was seeing too.

Nothing I can say will do justice to this show. If you enjoy Sigur Ros even marginally, and you have the means to go see them, please do.