Some moments in life are hard to translate from pen to paper. The most magical experiences are often the most difficult to write about. For example, I have met resistance in writing this review for fear of not perfectly capturing the beauty and essence of the night. However, I have realized how lucky I am to have seen this magic in front of my eyes. On July 14th, Phosphorescent and Blind Pilot performed a delectable double feature at the Denver Botanic Gardens. The lightning in a bottle back to back shows left me with the daunting yet delightful task of translating this magic into words.
READ: Review — The California Honeydrops Breathe Life into the Botanic Gardens
Phosphorescent
My first question: what does the word ‘phosphorescent’ mean? The definition, “when exposed to light of a shorter wavelength, a phosphorescent substance will glow, absorbing the light and re-emitting it at a longer wavelength.” Lead singer, Matthew Houck, has rightfully claimed this stage name because that is exactly what he does. He absorbs the light and energy the audience emits, and uses it to power his glowing performance.
Opening with his hit, “C’est La Vie,” Houck captured the collective heart of the audience. From the perspective of both a rockstar and father of two children, this song embodies the desire for equilibrium in his life. As the sun was peaking through the trees providing a natural spotlight, Houck sang softly, “C’est la vie, they say // But I don’t know what they mean // I say ‘Love’s easy, if you let it be.” A testament to relinquishing control and allowing life to unfold in the way it is meant to. Houck matched the serene energy of the flowers surrounding him with this song, creating a peaceful bubble around the audience.
However, that serenity was quickly swapped with a head-banging and hip-shaking verve in the next songs. The bandmates all shred on the guitar, bass and drums during “Around the Horn” and “New Birth in New England.” A couple in the crowd felt the music building in their bones, letting out an unrestrained “WOO!” every few seconds as the guitar riffs grew louder. Not long after, the couple ran up to the front of the stage to dance. As my foot was tapping and fist was pumping, an uncontrollable, “WOO!” escaped my lips. I had caught the bug and it felt good.
The keyboardist, Jo Schornikow, held the garden in her fingertips during “A Picture of Torn Up Praise.” With more of an ambient organ-like sound, everyone held their breath as she played. Her piano keys weaving into the pockets of sound the drums, bass and guitar were creating. Shornikow, who is married to Houck and the mother of their children, played like her life depended on it. As she closed her eyes, she entered the zone with her fingers effortlessly gliding across the keys, unknowingly bringing us all with her. Houck, with the microphone cord wrapped around his shoulders like a scarf, admired his love as she dazzled the audience. This power couple is a force to be reckoned with.
Phosphorescent has a star quality about him that is difficult to define. He is both someone you would want an autographed poster of, and also someone who would patiently hold the elevator open for you. Even the members of the next act, Blind Pilot, caught a glimpse of his performance while they danced in the crowd to the roaring of the guitar. As the set came to a close, Houck and his bandmates humbly thanked the crowd who were on their feet giving a standing ovation. Houck walked off the wrong side of the stage, just to give his kids a big hug. As he held each one of their hands in his own, the only round of applause he cared about was theirs.
Intermission
One of the best parts about a double feature at the gardens is the vibe of the intermission between shows. It is a combination of a buzz lingering in the air from the first performance, with a humming anticipation of the show still left to follow. The transition in artists always seems to coincide between the transition of day to night, the bright yellow sun morphs into a soft warm orange — creating the perfect environment for a shift in energy and artists.
At this time, I typically like to interview concert goers to get a feel of the night. Barefoot in the soft mildewed grass, I set out to interview Heather, a 20-year member of Denver Botanic Gardens and a loyal summer concert series regular. Her beautifully decorated picnic table dressed with a golden candelabra is what initially caught my eye. When asked why she attends each concert, whether knowing the performing artists or not, she simply replied “the garden is an oasis of music and camaraderie, it suspends time.”
Blind Pilot
Blind Pilot’s performance felt akin to a productive therapy session. In one song, I found myself feeling the pulse of music between my fingertips with my hands in the air. In the next, tears were streaming down my face. Israel Nebeker, the lead singer and songwriter of Blind Pilot, is a poet with his quip pen. His lyrics have this fearless vulnerability, and are uncomfortably relatable, as if he took a page out of the listener’s diary. This songwriting is beautifully paired with the multi-talented musicians in the band, creating a cohesive unit on stage.
Showcasing their musicality, the lighthearted tunes, “It Was Enough” and “Just a Bird” played first. These songs feature an orchestra of guitar, bass, drums, trumpet, harmonica, cello, clarinet and even a harmonium. Like bees to honey, one by one people began flocking to the front of the stage. One couple in particular pulled at my heart strings. I watched as the curly-haired woman wearing a blue sundress closed her eyes and sang every word, while her partner admired her doing so. With a soft smile and adoring eyes, he intertwined his fingers with hers as he joined in. That’s the magic this music makes you feel, like you are falling in love with your long-time partner for the first time again.
The sun finally set, and the moon used her ticket to enter the show just in time for “The Story I Heard.” A song that Nebeker wrote after a lovely interaction with an unhoused man named JoJo. It tells the real-life story of Nebeker when he met JoJo at the bus station, then weeks later, greeted him by name. Delighted that someone had remembered his name, JoJo’s face radiated with a smile. A simple, yet endearing message of kindness prevailing. He concluded the song with parting words saying, “In a world where there is so much hate, we must extend kindness to one another. Here in the gardens, it feels like a break from all the noise on the outside. So be kind to one another here.” This was a cherry on top of the previous quote I was told at intermission.
This message permeated throughout the audience for the rest of the evening. Blind Pilot lulled us into a calm and peaceful state with, “Umpqua Rushing” and “3 Rounds and a Sound.” As the sound of the cello sent goosebumps up my arms, Nebeker sang “Even faces change // But my heart stays the same.” Looking around, there were couples from all generations slow dancing. Hand in hand, their wedding bands appeared as trophies of the many years of love shared. The wrinkles grew deeper as the smiles spread across their faces – a physical reminder of all the laughs they’ve had over their time together. Blind Pilot is a band that illustrates this deep sense of love. Love for your partner, yourself, friends, family, strangers, nature, and so on. Though the phosphorescent glow of this evening had finally reached its end, this double feature fueled us all to bring home a little lightning in a bottle to power us on.
All photography by Maya Boustany.
