Bat for Lashes Plays Seattle

Sunday night, our five year old daughter had her first spend the night at a friend's house. She's had them at her aunt's before, but this was different. And it was a school night. Frank picked her up yesterday morning and took her to school. The night was a success and a BIG adventure with many tales.

The reason for this experiment was simple: parents needed a date and Bat for Lashes, the British band, was playing the Crocodile Cafe downtown. Need date + Good Music + Limited chance to see particular band + Childcare = A Done Deal. We were ready at any moment to cancel the whole thing if the spend the night didn't work out for any reason, but apparently the girls played voraciously, went to bed at bedtime without any fuss, and zonked out completely. The only possible hinderance to the evening: parents falling asleep before the late night show or on the midnight drive home. The first disappointing. The second obviously more so. We held up quite nicely for older parents. The pole we found to lean on for the performance helped tremendously, as did the performance art style of the band.

It was an all-ages show. We held up the upper end of the spectrum along with a few others who appeared a bit farther along the Bell Curve. Management divided the room in half with orange, plastic netting: alcohol/no alcohol. Or as Miss Kahn of Bat for Lashes said, the "youngies" on one side. Well, we found ourselves on the youngies' side, kind of by accident, probably by tired brains. It was less crowded, and the kids (all of whom I am old enough to have birthed at a statistically normal birthing age) were incredibly well-behaved. I felt like poking one or two to see if they were stand-ins or real young people. Where were the bad manners I remember kids my age - at that age - having? Okay, I'll be thankful for it. There was a moment when a young woman stepped on my toes because she couldn't see in the dark, and she apologized. A far cry from a Dallas New Year's Party long ago when a young woman speared my foot with a 4 inch stilleto and proceeded to laugh drunkenly in my face wondering why I'd caught her heel with my foot.

But back to the present, curiously better mannered day...

Almost as much fun as watching the band, was watching the two young men in front of me and to either side (they had such good manners, they made all conscious efforts not to block my view.) One shouted out at a lull, "Thank you for making such beautiful music," and at another time, "We love you!" Each time he was overcome with embarassment at his outburst and pulled his hat down over his eyes, only to shove it back up so it would not obscure his view of the goddess before him. The other, non-verbal young man, craned this way and that to get as close as he could to Miss Kahn without looking as if he were and came close to being the one Miss Kahn handed her tamborine to during one song. I can't help but wonder how long the glory of that moment would have lingered with him: a lifetime? 24-hours? The young woman who ended up with the tamborine-holding duties did a fine job, possibly because she wasn't fantasizing about the artist.

Fantasies are lovely, no?

Bat for Lashes band members each play several traditional and non-traditional instruments: violin, keyboard, autoharp, guitar, tamborine, maraca, flute, temple bells, walking stick, electric xylophone, squeeze box, drums, and other things. They use hand claps and foot stomps in the music. On a video of them I saw one member play the saw and another a cello. So these are well-versed and creative musicians. The feminine power of the room Sunday night echoed off the walls. Seeing, hearing, and feeling vibrant, talented women play music and perform with such raw power and passion bursts the dams in your heart and downs the fences of your daring. My hands itched for my own violin and keyboard, my own guitar... Songs ranged through my head all day following the performance. I saw my daughter on that stage. I saw that drive and creative force that I see in her. I felt it.

It liberates and empowers to see women excell at their craft. How liberating to be old enough not to be jealous, but grateful and happy for and encouraged. Reinvigorated.

Time to sand and stain a door. Then finish hanging the night sky on the living room ceiling. Creativity takes many forms. Some quite practical. Others not a bit. Thank heaven for that.