Sometimes a rock concert can save a whole season. This past Wednesday night my boyfriend and I went to The Decemberists’ show at the Boulder Theater and four days later I’ve still got an endorphin rush. They’re musician’s musicians, six people playing thirty instruments sounding like they’re classically trained on all of them. And they just tore it up. And Colin Meloy has a voice that’s older than his body, a voice that’s been brewing a long long time. Listening to the covert videos my boyfriend took brings it all back: Bailey’s in a flask in my pocketbook and all around people taking off their winter coats and cheering as the lights went down and the band came onstage–see it right here: http://www.ecologyofeverything.com/video/the-decemberist-put-on-rock-solid-show-in-boulder/–and all around the theater couples ceased fighting and started making out. For a few hours, there was something different: a break in the restraint of winter. It was one of those rare nights where the atmosphere has a common current and the songs are just what everyone wants to hear at the same time. Winter boots stomping the theater floor and so many raised arms, something I never see. A complete departure from routine, from the drive up and the day before. After a few hours outside our ordinary life, the last encore’s over and we all have to leave the theater, walk out where it’s still bone-chilling cold but the heaviness is lifted. Camaraderie in the streets where everyone ignores the slush and ice, still high. Cigarettes light up, little flares, people talk about songs, and somewhere someone’s singing the last song of the night.