Photos By: Brett Tighe
It all ended with the banjo player dangling from the ceiling during the last notes of an all-out, sing-at-the-top-of-your-lungs, dance-until-you-can’t encore.
The Pour House was packed on a humid Thursday night thanks to the triple folk-rock magnetism of Family and Friends, Cereus Bright, and The Oh Hellos. The band to set the tone for the night was Family and Friends, who did it right, launching into “My Life, My Love” with a sheer enthusiasm matched only by the enthralled audience. “The energy is palpable!” said F&F member Mike MacDonald, a theme that carried throughout the entire show. Family and Friends’ dual percussionists and undeniably catchy rhythmic hooks made for an ideal live performance and had everyone dancing. The joyous aura and intimate venue made it truly feel like a party with your best friends and closest family–that is, if your family can change up tempos mid-song with ease while belting out songs like “Amadeus.”
Cereus Bright opened with a musically airtight rendition of the upbeat “Stella.” Live performances are sometimes fuzzy around the edges, but Cereus maintained their clean, cohesive sound. In a bold move, they covered Dolly Parton’s “Jolene” and not only did it justice but made it their own.
The Oh Hellos appeared on stage, silhouetted by the lights, as anticipation and cheers rose from the crowd. Finally, the subtle crescendo broke open into the first song, “Bitter Water,” from new album Dear Wormwood. “This is going to be an emotional roller coaster,” warned Tyler Heath, one of the band’s founding members. The statement proved true as they sailed from rousing choruses in “Eat You Alive” to quiet, even haunting, melodies and pensive lyrics in “There Beneath.” Things never got too far into the deep, dark valley, however, thanks to the wry banter between the band members and audience. No one was ready for it to end, and so to chants of “One more song, one more song,” The Oh Hellos played an encore that united the best indie-folk-rock elements of the night (and all three bands onstage).
It had been a long night–filled with dancing, sweat, and great music–but if anyone was feeling tired, you never would have guessed it. As the last song whirled toward the finish line, a musician climbed up and swung upside-down from the rafters, his banjo swaying from its strap as everyone gasped and pulled out their phones. A worried audience member even spotted him below as he dangled precariously from one hand. And after the last feverish drumbeats, a quiet moment collected–no instruments, only voices on all sides humming an old, familiar hymn. All in all, it was a fitting end to a gathering that started at a high point and never really came down.
