When I left Future Islands’ sold out show at Mohawk on Wednesday night, I knew that the possibilities of my life were limitless. In the last couple of years, I’ve been to some truly memorable shows: Neutral Milk Hotel and, recently, Arcade Fire. However, based solely on the hour-and-a-half spent in the presence of a band performing their songs live, Future Islands’ show surpasses them all. I’m not sure I’ve ever left a show more inspired or emotionally affected.
Onstage, frontman Samuel T. Herring is a cosmic force. His every motion exudes a deep understanding of humanity. He places his five fingertips together–the kind of hand gesture one might make to signify that a dish is delectable or that one is seeking the essence of a topic–and he places them in his mouth. Here is a man drinking deeply from the well of life. Herring shakes and bobs in odd dance moves, completely immersed in the moment. He’s all-in. He dances freely and wildly yet with strange grace, ducking shimmying. There is no reservation, no hesitation, no inhibition.
As Herring sings, he walks to the front of the stage and leans out over the crowd, reaching out toward Mohawk’s balcony as if he is reaching out over a great divide, an ocean, to make a human connection with the beings on the other side. Then, he leans down to the front row of fans; I am one of them. He walks from person to person, reaching out and touching each person’s cheek, making eye contact for five, maybe ten seconds–it’s an eternity in a live music setting. This isn’t some punk rock, confrontational eye lock. It is intimate and immediate. I’ve been thinking and writing about sincerity lately, and this performance may be the most sincere and present I’ve ever seen.
But it’s not all calm and demure, Herring also growls, claws at his own face, and tosses himself about the stage in violent spasms. He embodies all the beauty and terror of life within each action. Before long, Herring is soaked with sweat, his white t-shirt plastered transparently to his body, but he hardly seems to notice. During the encore, Herring falls to the floor and appears on the verge of tears, perhaps he’s even weeping, but the it’s hard to tell with all the sweat. Then, he’s up again finishing out the set with the same raw energy he’s possessed all night. Watching him perform, I’m transformed. Herring may be expressive himself through art, through music, but we should all do whatever it is we do with the same total abandon. I want that in my life.
Gravity is the result of a physical object’s interaction with space-time. The more massive an object is, the greater it’s gravity. The moon moves around the Earth, the Earth around the Sun, the Sun one of many millions of stars moving around the super-massive black hole at the galactic center of the Milky Way. Some of us are moons, some are suns. Samuel T. Herring is a super-massive black hole, and I am in orbit.
For a write-up of the opening acts, click here. All photos © Bryan Parker & Pop Press International. Click any image to open in slideshow viewer.
