I don't know what this is, but this is not a review.

This is probably the weirdest review I've ever had to write. The kind of review that I do not really know what to do with. I guess, to me, it made sense to write about those two shows together because I was in the same frame of mind for both of them. I want to be completely honest, and at the same time I don't want to say too much. So, please, bear with me - I do not know where this is going.

I am one of these people who are very intense. I can't think of any other word, and I am aware it might come as a surprise to some people, because on the outside, I look very mellow, and calm, and friendly, and plainly nice. I am not the kind of person who would get into a fight or disagree with someone just for the fun of it. Yet, I am very intense. I don't do middle grounds. One thing can feel like the end of the world one day and the next, I will smile like nothing happened. It doesn't mean it's fake. I felt it. I suppose I just get things out of my system this way.

The Sunday I saw Fatherson live, I was in an "end of the world" phase. My feelings were all over the place. I felt like I had fucked up with someone I liked, and it was all too fresh for me to put anything into perspective, I hated myself, I was devastated, I didn't understand why I even had friends in the first place, and I wanted to fight to get what I wanted (what did I want, go wonder).
In a desperate attempt to put my life back together and be the person who refuses to go down without a fight, who refuses to let anyone or anything bring her down, I dragged myself to the Hope and Ruin (a name that is strangely close to the way I feel about life sometimes). I had planned on seeing Fatherson for weeks and I didn't want to let anything get in the way of that, and yet, I still don't understand how I even convinced myself to get dressed that day. I was a mess. When I got there and someone I know (a friend?) asked how I was, I said awful. I did not even have the energy to be anything else than honest. Lies were a bit too much to ask. (Still, I came back to apologise shortly after and explain my case, because I started feeling bad about blurting out to someone's innocent face that I felt awful. I do understand it puts people in an awkward position and adding to the pile of guilt wasn't what I had in mind)

They say that ice cold water helps when you're feeling down. I don't know if it's true. I don't know if getting a glass was a reflex. It just ended up being something I wanted to hold on to in order to get through the evening without crumbling down. That's how much of a mess I was.

It ended up being useless because, spoiler alert, music did that for me.

First, there was Boy Jumps Ship. I knew the name. Of course, I knew the name. It seems they were on every tour at some point, and yet, I had never seen them before or listened to their music. Seeing them was overdue, in a way - they were everywhere and we had probably crossed paths a hundred times. It felt right. It felt good. They are a very good band, they swept me off my feet so easily, I was hooked in a matter of seconds. Here's to hoping they will make a come back on my little windy seaside town. I'd love to see them again.

And then, Fatherson. I don't even know how I got round to listening to them. If you don't know them, give them a listen and shortly add them to the list of "insanely talented Scottish bands". I can't tell what it was - was it the passion, was it the singing along, who knows. I can, though, tell you that there is something incredibly comforting and warm that emanates from their music. You know, that Welsh word, cwtch, the hug that feels like a safe place? That's what it felt like. A safe place. And after going from being on top of the world to the bottom of the ocean in twenty-four hours, all I wanted was something safe, something to run to, something to comfort me. And I had it. Fatherson have that ability to break your heart in the best possible way and then to mend it just as easily. Something about the air in Scotland, I suppose. See you soon, boys.

The second gig I need to talk about was Sorority Noise. By the Wednesday, I felt much better - well, not really. I had just found out that I was put on performance monitoring at work and by the time I stepped into Sticky Mike's (my second home in Brighton), I had seven hours of work left to save my job. Possibly being unemployed kind of took over the little "I fucked up in so many ways" thing and stayed that way until I walked through the door. There's always something about going back where you got hurt and feeling like the scene will replace every good memory you ever had there.

Thankfully, Sorority Noise (and Birdskulls, and Old Gray) made sure to give me a lifetime's supply of good memories in there. I have been twice since the gig and every time I saw the stage downstairs, my brain immediately took me back to that Sorority Noise gig. That's how good it was. It overtook the bad.

I started listening to Sorority Noise because my friend Alma loves them and she spoke a lot about how much she loved their album Joy, Departed. So I gave them a listen. And found out they were playing Brighton. And went. If you have never listened to them, you should. I use these words a lot and it starts feeling silly, but they are intense and raw. In a different way that I am, I suppose. Maybe that's why I like intense music - I relate. I don't know. When I say a band is intense, I mean they hit me right in the feels, right like a brick in the face, I put down the earphones or leave the venue feeling completely disorientated because I do not understand what just happened.
It feels like the music senses what I need or want and puts its finger right on it and says it's okay.

And that's how it felt like standing too close to the right side of the stage next to the same photographer I see all the time at Brighton gigs on that Wednesday night. Sorority Noise played my favourite song (Using) and sang of depression and broken hearts and being dressed in black and never wanting to get out of bed and I looked around and everyone was singing along, crowdsurfing, battling to get as close to the stage as possible, shouting all the words and smiling and I knew I was going to be okay and Sticky Mike's would still be my second home in Brighton and that's all I needed to know.

I'd like to say that also, on top of the mess that I was, Sorority Noise are an incredible band, both live and on record. It might seem a bit bland. I don't know. I don't care.

Once again, this is not a review. This is just a bunch of words scattered around, a truckload of feelings clumsily put into words. The bottom line is before Fatherson, and before Sorority Noise, I felt like I was down in the gutter, and I saved myself the only way I knew how. 

It's not a joke when I say live music is the love of my life.
I used to fear that I would never love anyone as much as I love standing in a venue full of people and listening to my favourite songs. It's a different kind of love, I suppose. I know one day I'll find someone special and standing next to him will feel like being in a venue packed with people and listening to my favourite songs. I know I'm going to be okay. Music's always there to take care of it anyway.


PS : I know this is a weird post. I wish I had better reasons to convince the world to listen to Fatherson and Sorority Noise. I know.