Sweating It Out with Arcade Fire

Many things were epic about tonight's show by the Arcade Fire, including the music and my sweat.

Well, not just my sweat, but every stinking person's sweat who crowded into Charlottesville's pavilion for a last minute show, scheduled for the band as they make their way to headline Bonnaroo beginning Thursday and then leaving for a show in Portugal. How did we get so lucky?

The show was general admission, despite some chairs being available. What that meant was that the line started forming some time before I arrived at 5:00 (the gates were supposed to open at 6) and rapidly grew in the late afternoon sunshine.

Once inside, many people made  a beeline for the floor, hoping to be as close as possible to the band. Go for it, I thought.

Although I'm usually a stander at shows, the thought of being in that crush of sweaty flesh seemed less than appealing.

I scored a seat in the front row of chairs not even half the way back and was fully satisfied, knowing I'd be standing anyway, but at least no could could be pushing against me from behind.

My seat mates were a couple of girls from Raleigh, devoted show-goers who travel to various cities to see the bands that interest them. My kind of music lovers for sure.

Turns out that they too had seen the Arcade Fire back in 2007 on the "Neon Bible" tour when I saw them in D.C.
Like me, they considered that show, with the National as openers, an all-time top three evening. I still remember how it seemed to be over in the blink of an eye because it was so jaw-droppingly amazing.

The surprise was that although they were from North Carolina, they'd never heard of the opening band, Bowerbirds, band of which I'm very fond.

But once the band began playing their folky Americana with its aching songwriting and lovely harmonies, the girls were on board. The band remind me of an amalgamation of some of RVA's similar bands with violins, accordion and glockenspiel.

I ran into loads of Richmonders- a favorite photographer and his music-loving wife, a bluegrass musician, an event organizer, a bartender, a waiter, another photographer, a talented drummer and several others, none of whom seemed in the least bit surprised to see me there.

Watching all the sweaty bodies move around, I decided my favorite t-shirt was the one saying "Bacon, the gateway meat." I wanted to talk to the guy only because I liked his shirt.

When the Arcade Fire finally took the stage to much shrieking and applause, leader Winn Butler said, "It's so nice to be in temperate weather. It's been so cold in Montreal this spring. It's good to sweat."

Good thing he felt that way because we were all sweating standing still and once the band began, there was no standing still.

And by sweaty, I mean my sundress was wet, as were my bra and underwear and that was definitely a first for me. Sweat poured off of everyone in the still night air. And no one cared.

Naturally they began with a song off the new album "The Suburbs," followed it with a song from "Neon Bible" and then went to my favorite, "Funeral," their first. They jumped around all night from album to album, satisfying all.

At one point Butler put down his guitar and went to the piano, observing, "There's always sweat on the piano, but not always blood." Duly noted.

I didn't smell my first whiff of weed until near the end, during  a personal favorite, "Rebellion (Lies)."

People say that your dreams
are the only things that save ya.
Come on baby in our dreams,
we can live on misbehavior

Given the lack of air movement, the scent hung in the air until everyone's body odors overtook it. It was just the way of the night.

Or maybe it was just the epic quality of the song and the intensity the band brought to tonight's Bonnaroo warm-up show that made it tough to focus on anything but the music, not to mention the epic heat.

As I walked out, I saw a girl looking wan and weak sitting next to a bag of ice with her hands laying on it, clearly seeking to cool down. I think I'd have sat on it or embraced it instead.

It would have been tough to cool down after that performance any night, but tonight it was impossible. I know; I drove home with all the windows down, hoping to dry my damp dress and undies.

There's nothing like a road trip to let your mind wander and mine was wandering and dreaming in all kinds of epic directions tonight.

Because dreams are the only thing that save ya.

I heard it in a song, so it must be true.