The Needle That Sings In Your Heart

Originally posted on my old blog, Get Up Eight, which died when I didn't renew the domain. Reposting entries I enjoyed.

I’ve debated a bit about whether I should (and whether I could) write about what I did last night. There’s a part of me that knows that no matter what I say, I’m not going to be able to accurately reflect what it felt like but I want to try anyway.

So, what did you do last night? Me? Oh, not much. Just saw Jeff Mangum in concert.

I’m not going to go into the full history of Jeff or Neutral Milk Hotel, but I will say that seeing him perform was not something I thought would ever happen in my lifetime. I got into Neutral Milk Hotel late – in 2000, about a year after they disbanded and Jeff essentially disappeared from the public eye, I heard In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. A friend played a couple tracks over the phone to me and that was all it took. From that moment on Aeroplane, On Avery Island, and later Live From Jittery Joes (not to mention any b-side bootleg I could come by) became the soundtrack of my life.

Mangum’s voice sang me through falling in love and getting my heart broken. It was window down, warm summer day and the heart swelling feeling of singing along at the top of your lungs. It carried me through college, through moves, making and losing friends, life changing diagnosis’, the most amazing days of my young life and the worst.

In the 12 years since I’d first heard it, not a week has gone by where I haven’t listened to Neutral Milk Hotel in some capacity. Some weeks, not a day passed without it. And in all those years I knew that hearing this voice through my speakers was all I was going to get.

Until that wasn’t true anymore. Until Jeff played a few full sets that I wasn’t able to make it to and then…scheduled more. One of these newly scheduled shows was 20 minutes from my apartment and I was online the second tickets went on sale buying one.

I’ll be honest, even after I bought a ticket and the date approached, it didn’t seem quite real. Then, the date arrived and I was rushing home after work to get changed, grab my ticket confirmation and head to the venue.

The venue was a beautiful old theater built in the early 1900s that mostly focuses on plays with the occasional music act thrown in. I thought it was the perfect place for Mangum to play. Intimate, ornate and beautiful with an old timey feel that seems perfectly suited to the music we were about to hear.

The opening act, The Music Tapes, fronted by Julian Koster who played with Jeff in Neutral Milk Hotel, was fun and irreverent. A 7 foot metronome, a singing television and a little marching through the audience while playing music.  I enjoyed their performance, but if I’m being honest, I probably would have enjoyed anything. I mean, I was about to see Jeff Mangum, you know? I was already thrilled out of my mind.

They set up the stage for Jeff – a chair surrounded by 4 guitars, a few bottles of water and a sheet music stand with his set list on it. Finally, the lights went down and he walked out. Baggy pants, a plaid shirt and a newsboy cap with chin length brown hair – you’d never know that it wasn’t 1998 or that most of us had been waiting at least 10 years to see this. Everyone erupted in hollering and clapping while he quickly strode across the stage, took a seat, picked up a guitar and started playing Two-Headed Boy Part 2.

I couldn’t tone down the wild grin that had spread across my face while I leaned forward, hands clasped, and listened in dead silence with the rest of the crowd.

Before starting the next song, he quietly said, “You can sing along.” He played the opening notes to Holland 1945 and the whole crowd yelled out the countdown 2...1, 2, 3, 4 and we sang. After it was over, a girl near me exclaimed “I just sang with Jeff Mangum!” in a shocked tone and that was exactly how I felt.

The setlist for the show couldn’t have been more perfect. I teared up when he brought Julian out and they played Engine. Before playing Little Birds he told us that he didn’t play the song much, strummed one note and joked “So, did you like it?” There was so much laughter and joy from both the audience and Jeff.

People shouted out song requests – one guy called out for True Love Will Find You In The End, which Jeff had covered in the past and Jeff replied, “Hey thanks, friend! You too!” Someone asked his favorite color (it’s yellow), someone else yelled out praises that made him laugh. At one point he paused and asked us if we were happy. I yelled out “HELL YES” amongst a chorus of voices yelling out the same. A venue full of people who couldn’t be happier if they tried.

He played King of Carrot Flowers part 1, Naomi, Gardenhead/Leave Me Alone, A Baby For Pree, King of Carrot Flowers part 2 & 3, Oh Comely and Ghost. Each song was better than the last. His voice was perfectly on point the entire time. Everyone in the crowd threw back their heads and sang out I love you Jesus Christ; Jesus Christ I love you, yes I do with all their hearts.

Then he started Two-Headed Boy to close out the show. It was flawless and overwhelming. I spent a portion of the song with my eyes closed so I could listen better. At the end of the song, he stopped singing and told us to sing. 1600 people singing the ending de de de’s as Julian and the rest of The Magic Tapes came out and they went right into The Fool. To say people momentarily lost their shit was an understatement. The horns, the accordion, the percussion, the guitar – it was perfect, it was beautiful, and it was entirely unexpected.

After The Fool, they all walked off stage and the crowd immediately leapt to their feet, cheering and clapping until Jeff and Julian came back out to play In The Aeroplane Over The Sea. Julian played the singing saw while Jeff played guitar and sang it out. It sounded exactly like every emotion I’d ever felt while listening to that song through all the moments of the last 12 years of my life. Every time I felt overwhelmed in love, every time I laughed until I cried, every beautiful second was sounding back at me for those final 4 minutes.

Then, as quickly as it began, it was over. The lights came up and we all poured out of the building and stumbled to our cars. For a minute after I got in my car, I just sat in silence – a smile playing across my face and my eyes welled up with fresh tears. Had it really happened? Was I really there? I keep describing it as overwhelming and it was. It was perfectly, joyously, heart-wrenchingly overwhelming but it had happened. I saw Jeff Mangum. I watched his smile light up a room and I heard my life pour out of his mouth while I sang along.

And a small part of me – the tiniest part that only I can see – feels like a different girl because of it.