Last night I went to my first "gig" since I moved to London. A "gig" is what the hip kids here call a "show", or a concert, and it was at an amazing venue in Camden called the Roundhouse. I saw Fleet Foxes, who I love and who my friend Maureen told me days after I'd moved: "go see Fleet Foxes the minute you have a chance." So I did.
Rachel had a bunch of tickets, so I went with her and two other lovely ladies from work, and it was an amazing show. It's weird how going to something like a concert can instantly transport a person backwards in time, ground her in the present, or inspire his walk to work the next day. Fleet Foxes are American, and from the moment the lead singer opened his mouth I felt a really strong kinship with the music that I had never experienced at a concert before. Usually I'm busy dancing to the beat, but we were seated in the balcony and Fleet Foxes have a lovely folksy quality that can only come from Appalachia and the American West. The melodies, the lyrics, and the voices enveloped me in a warm blanket of Americana, and I loved it.
I thought I might feel homesick after the show, but I didn't; instead I was reassured that no matter where I live, I can still get a feeling of home from the things I love.