Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Here We Go Magic - Here We Go Magic (V0)

I first saw Here We Go Magic at Austin City Limits in 2009. It was early morning, the 'Dillo Dirt was turning into what basically amounted to sewage and manure, and a fine mist permeated the air. Rain had poured the night previously, and more was yet to come. It was around 10 o' clock a.m. when they took the stage, before or after The Dodos and Suckers (I can hardly remember). Luke Temple stood in between four other people, chanting and yelling, murmuring and gesturing to the crowd. It was early, I'd never heard of Here We Go Magic before that day, and the stench in the air from the surfacing fertilizer was extremely, horribly distracting.

Following that appearance, I let Here We Go Magic stir in my brain a little bit, taking in their jangly guitars and egg shakers, their DIY musical attitude and clear sense of community between each other. I grew to like Here We Go Magic in the months following, not just musically but conceptually, because these seemed like people I could genuinely get along with. I've always been a fan of that sort of psychedelic folk rock aesthetic; it seems to attract the best musicians.

The second time I saw Here We Go Magic, I went prepared. Several hours of listening to their music, in various states of consciousness, and I had familiarized myself so much with their music that even Jen Turner's subliminal lyricisms seemed clear to me. Temple and company began playing at around midnight, and continued on for an hour and a half. I can honestly say that that hour and change was one of the high points of my year. Here We Go Magic put on a brilliant show, fulfilling the psychedelic promises made on their last two records and going even a step further. My mind was completely blown away by the fuzzy rhythms and textures, the seeming communion of souls practiced by the band members, the drones and warping synthesizers. It was incredible; greasy college students stood who had previously stood about drinking overpriced beer earlier in the night were, by the time Here We Go Magic played their finale, Collector, shoving, jumping, and crowdsurfing just like everyone else in the room. The floor devolved into chaos; what happened that night can only be described as moshing to psychedelic folk music.

Here We Go Magic's eponymous debut is a record that grows with you. It takes effort to delve into thoroughly, and you have to appreciate the band as something created from intimacy. It is also a record that will reward you for your investments, because the kind of love that Luke Temple puts into his music is something that few musicians are capable of.

Everything is possible.

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