Cursive and Bright Eyes are two bands that have achieved near-legendary status in the world of alternative music. They've both been touring for decades, and neither band shows signs of stopping. Their stage presence is magnetic. I was significantly more familiar with Cursive going in. Domestica is one of my favorite albums, after all. Cursive's music is bold and almost experimental, and it doesn't quite fit into any genre. It's emo, sure, but the cello thrumming through the music brings in a nearly orchestral element. Tim Kasher's singing moves from soft melodies to nearly screaming in desperation; while the cellist, Greta Cohn, layers her own voice on top of his. The audience watches. They gently rock their bodies to the bass and cello. They're quiet, entranced, and listening. They only break their silence to clap in between songs, or to cheer when Kasher uplifts the trans and immigrant communities. Near the end of their set, Cursive pulled the singer of Bright Eyes, Conor Oberst, onstage. They performed mashups of two of their songs: "The Recluse" (Cursive) and "Lover I Don't Have to Love" (Bright Eyes). Everyone in the audience lost their minds–it was awesome.
As soon as the lights dimmed for Bright Eyes, the energy in the room reached a near tipping point. People gripped the barricade and leaned their torsos over the metal, trying to be as close as possible to the band. When Oberst began to sing, the people at the barricade mouthed along. They knew every word. While I'm not as familiar with Bright Eyes' music as I am with Cursive's, the kind of energy that was in the room was infectious. It draws you in, and makes you a part of a community–and everyone watching the band was a community. They held hands as the acoustic guitar strummed; they danced and jumped as the trumpet blasted and the musicians spun around the stage. Strangers became friends, brought together in the way only music can do. I left the show warm and smiling. I think everyone else did, too.