How Strange It Is To be Anything at All: Neutral Milk Hotel Returns to Athens

I have lived most of my life in Athens.  I grew up in it's unique community and consider myself lucky to have done so.  Writing for the Broad Collective, I got to share this love with others in the community.  The following is one of my favorite pieces I wrote for them.  I believe I use my words here to show many of the different aspects of Athens that I love.

Growing up in Athens you hear some great stories.  Your parent’s, your friend’s parents, your aunts and uncles, everyone has a story about the time they saw REM play their buddy’s house party.  Or people who had been lucky enough to step inside Kate Pierson’s humble abode, The Love Shack.  I’ve always wondered, when will I get this my story.  What stories will become so important to me they become part of my own personal legends?  My origin story, if you will, shaping me into the super townie I will become.  Since moving back to Athens, almost exactly a year ago, I have had many of these experiences.  I’ve made new friends.  Rekindled old friendships.  Gone to concerts, gallery openings, festivals, and fairs.  All of this now seemed to be building up to a few Sundays back when I entered the Orange Twin Conservation Community for the first time.

I first arrived at Orange Twin not sure where the evening would go.  But equipped with my cooler, quilt, and lifelong friend and partner in crime, I was ready for the night ahead.  We walked down the gravel path admiring the beautiful farmhouse and following the sound of Elf Power and smell of barbeque along the way.  After a couple of minutes we came across a beautiful stage and amphitheatre carved into the side of a hill.  We found a spot among the sea of blankets and settled in for the evening.  I enjoyed the rest of Elf Power’s set, tapping my foot to the beat and singing along when they sang David Bowie’s “Queen Bitch.”

After their set, I walked around a bit and really got a feel for the sense of community Orange Twin is known for.  I was telling a woman of how I almost inadvertently cut the entire line for the bathroom.  She responded by asking if I made any enemies.  I told her “No, everyone was really understanding and even offered to let me go ahead.”  She nodded her head, “Yeah, it’d be pretty hard to make enemies here.”  It really would be.  Everyone was kind, friendly, and looking to lend a hand.  I didn’t encounter a single person who was rude or negative, which sadly can be a tough feat at a concert.  Between sets people set off on short hikes of the grounds and visited the nearby watering hole for a chance to cool off.  Others read books or sketched images of their view.  Children played and mother’s bounced babies on their knees.  I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again–Athens is the greatest place to grow up.

Jill Carnes makes up the awesome one woman band Thimble Circus.  She sings about everything from her cats to heavy metal (the elements, not the musical genre) while accompanying herself on ukule and a piano best fit for Schroder.  Her performance reminded me of a vision I have of one day having children.  I have a hope that we’ll write music together and play a large collection of instruments (whether we are trained to or not).  I kept thinking throughout her set, I have got to get one of those adorable pianos.  Carnes closed her set with “Happy Trails to You,” really embodying the entire evening.  Some swayed, others sang along, we might as well have been circled around the campfire.

Next up was Robert Schneider, the incredibly entertaining force behind Apples in Stereo.  This was my second time seeing him perform and he never disappoints.  Preparing to leave for tour with Neutral Milk Hotel, he was using this show as a forum for suggestions on his tour set list.  In one of the most picturesque performances I’ve had the pleasure of seeing, Schneider performed “Too Much Radiation,” his ode to Orange Twin Conservation Community.

Jeff Mangum walked onto the stage and immediately had the crowd in his hand.  Shortly after he was joined by the rest of the band, and for the first time in over a year Neutral Milk Hotel performed in Athens, Georgia.  The set was incredible.  People’s reactions to their performance were similar to that of a church congregation during a particularly moving hymn.  The audience stood up, raised their arms, and swayed side to side.  People were moved by this music.  As they played “Aeroplane Over the Sea,” I looked toward the vineyard planted beside the stage to see two children running through the candlelit vines.  I couldn’t help but think to myself, “Was this planned?” as I watched the two girls fall to the ground giggling.  The night was filled with line up and instrument changes.  By the end of the set we’d seen accordions, banjos, trumpets, trombones, and euphonium.  Even a saw! There is this beautiful sound that has come to haunt me in their music because I can never figure out what it is.  Well, I could’ve guessed all day long and I would have never guessed it was Julian Koster playing the dull side of a saw with a bow.

Allow me to go off topic for a moment–more recently I got to see YA darling, David Levithan read at Avid Bookshop.  I had been to many events at Avid before, but during Q&A periods never asked a question.  I’m not sure why this was.  Sure I’ve had questions before, but never ones I felt I needed an answer to.  While reading Will Grayson, Will Grayson in preparation for the reading, I grew curious about something.  You see, Neutral Milk Hotel is the favorite band of the young adults in this book.  As a fan, I wondered why them?  Why not choose a more popular band, one that more readers may be able to relate to?  So, when the event came I asked.  David Levithan wrote this book with John Green (Maybe you’ve heard of him?) and at the time Green could not stop listening to “Holland 1945.”  When the book was published, Neutral Milk Hotel were not touring or recording new music.  Green believed they would be the perfect fit, influential but mythical.  He really hit the nail on the head.  I discovered Neutral Milk Hotel in high school (around the same time Will Grayson, Will Grayson was published) and they really were this amazing group my friends and I adored, but had actually seen about as many times as we’d seen a unicorn out in the wild.  Well, I have seen them now and it was all the magic my high school self dreamed it would be and so so much more.

The night ended with a beautiful set from the Music Tapes.  I’ve always heard their shows were not to be missed, but this was my first time seeing them.  The set consisted of Julian Koster unwinding some enchanting tale of his childhood and then playing a song which coincided with the story.  The first was a hauntingly beautiful Russian Circus Song.  He prefaced the performance by saying his family was close friend with a Russian family who along with performing in a circus, communicated with each other using a musical code.  This song was one of the last known pieces of the code.  It sounded incredibly familiar yet I still don’t know where from.  The next was a story about his grandmother and her now antique radio.  He said there was a love song she enjoyed more than anything.  He could remember her playing it on the radio.  He went on to say that they had the radio with them today.  It hasn’t worked in years but earlier it had been bumped into and that very song started playing.  He believed he could try and make it occur again if only everyone listened very closely.  He walked over to the radio, knocked it, and the song mystically began to play, Julian joining on lead vocals.  He described the song as being about a love that doesn’t truly exist.  Except maybe when you’re a child because it’s how you unconditionally love your room or your stuffed animals.  I think that’s the love people felt at this show.  Like everyone had been brought here for a particular reason and in this moment nothing could go wrong.  This was a very special show, one that I will carry with me and share with friends and family for years to come.