Heart It Races

Two months ago, Ma'ayan told me she'd heard that Architecture in Helsinki was going to be playing at the 'Sco. My reaction went a bit like this:

My first boyfriend got me their first album four years ago; my devotion to the guy waned, but my love for the group has only grown with time, so saying that this news excited me is a colossal understatement. I am, in fact, still ludicrously overjoyed, and will probably remain in a state of permanent, stupidly happy flip-out-ery for the rest of ever, so instead of trying to force two months of exuberance and two hours of show-induced bliss into words, I have illustrated the experience to the best of my ability.

A bit of explanation regarding the show itself: the openers started at nine. I got there at ten. AIH started at eleven thirty. It took me a good hour to finagle my way up to the stage until only one row of people separated me from the ground my beloved band would be standing on, but I made it. The 'Sco packed more and more people in. I was jostled, nudged, and boxed in until my absentminded dancing (Is it time yet? Is it time yet? Oh, the song ended, I should clap. Is it time now? No? How about now? Or right now? Now? . . .Now?) became nothing more than nodding and swaying with my arms folded up by my sides, begging-dog-style.

In due time, of course, the openers packed up and AIH's equipment was unveiled. My level of excitement - as if that were even possible - took an asymptotically sharp turn upward. The 'Sco reached fever pitch just as the band members jogged onstage; a shrill and mighty scream arose from the crowd, like the embrace of a kraken that has been deprived far too long of ships and whales to chase. The Obies around me threw their fists up and began to jump like a sea that is being churned by said frenzied kraken - it was jump along or be crushed. My throat protested feebly at being treated like a chunk of meat being tenderized. Let's play a game, I thought to myself, is it possible for me to lose my voice in one hour?

Architecture in Helsinki started to play.

My voice died a swift and noble death.

To illustrate just how close I was to them, here's what the view was like when I looked straight ahead:

And this is what I saw when I looked up just a tiny bit:

And when I looked up and to the right, there was Kellie Sutherland:

There were also four other people on the stage, but Cameron and Kellie were in the spotlight, being lead singers. In the interest of spreading the love, though, I also illustrated the others' contributions to the sweet and glorious aural ambrosia I ingested that night:

In sum - and I don't want to make any hasty judgments here - Oberlin combined with Architecture in Helsinki might just be the way to world peace, the end to world hunger, and the cure for cancer. Either that, or it's unicorns.