There was hardly a place to sit or even stand at the Dreamland Theater Friday night. The narrow venue was crammed from wall to wall with people gathered to listen to the piercingly poignant musical whimsy of bands Little Wings and Breathe Owl Breathe.
There was a peace that pervaded the room; it was unlike any show. No one danced and very few spoke. They sat cross-legged on the floor or stood along the periphery, speechlessly transfixed like children at story time.
The magic began with a lulling performance by Little Wings. Though he usually performs with a full band, singer David Kyle Field had traveled far from his San Francisco stomping grounds and didn’t have room in his suitcase for band mates. However, such was the kinship between the two acts that Micah Middaugh and Trevor
Hobbs of Breathe Owl Breathe added keyboard and percussion respectively.
Field’s music impressed a quiet comfort reminiscent of being swathed in heavy quilts lovingly hand-stitched by your great-grandmother and passed down through generations to keep you warm on cold winter days. Everything
about his performance seemed pure and honest in the most captivating way.
Some people use music as an auxiliary emotional egress, but watching him sway as he crooned the gentle melodies of songs like “Gold Teeth,” it seemed much more integral to him, as though it were his most honest way of emoting.
“Maybe it’s kind of the ideal version of thought? I don’t really get there in real life,” Field said. “Songs are like playing a role, being a character, living a poem for a few minutes. Music’s interesting that way. It’s definitely an idealized state. It’s a way to express our experience.
“It’s cathartic to put that in front of people. To have them receive it is pretty special. It’s nice when people can understand what you mean, to feel those thoughts transmitted and received.”
Stacey Palazzolo, artist and librarian at the Ypsilanti District Library, helped plan the show. Having been a Little Wings fan for seven years, she said it was a dream come true to have Field perform in Ypsilanti.
“I’ve always wanted to see Little Wings,” she said. “People on the west coast have had that opportunity but as far as him being in the Midwest, I’ve never heard of it.
“Sometime last summer I tried to get in touch with [Field] and a booking agent got back to me. That’s kind of how it started. [Field] wanted to do something with Breathe Owl Breathe. It all worked out really cool and it was a really fun show tonight.”
At the close of Field’s set, Breathe Owl Breathe took the stage. Its energy had a similar peaceful comfort but a deeper sense of childhood wonder and innocence. Its performance was endearingly theatrical without being obnoxious.
In a deep, soothing timbre, Middaugh would introduce, explain or contextualize each song and while performing he, with help from cellist and Ann Arbor native Andréa Moreno-Beals, would enact the stories each song told.
The most brilliant and engaging example was the tragic love song “Dragon.” Middaugh began by explaining the story of a dragon and a princess who were pen pals. With the sort of lighthearted wit of a master storyteller he explained the dragon was in love with the princess, but “the princess didn’t know the dragon was a dragon because the dragon had very good penmanship.”
Middaugh acted out the dragon’s sentimental scribbling by rubbing the microphone against his palm. To simulate the commotion of the mob of townspeople gathered outside the dragon’s home, Middaugh asked the left half of the audience clap thunderously when Moreno-Beals clapped and the right half of the audience clap when Hobbs clapped. This lovingly riotous weaving of song and story was present throughout the set.
Debbie Gordon-Messer attended the show on a whim, having been introduced to Breathe Owl Breathe’s music just that week by a close friend. She commented on the playful innocence of their music.
“It made me feel like a kid, because they were up there playing, making noises and doing whatever the heck they wanted to,” she said.
While Middaugh admitted his narratives are manifestly playful and lighthearted, he said there are more latent
currents of anguish.
“I hope people pick up on the darker elements as well because that’s an important piece of the puzzle,”
Middaugh said. “It’s coming from something that we’re all going through. Maybe it’s simplifying it but I think a lot of the songs come from heavier places.”
Paying mind to that piece of the puzzle, everything seemed to fit. You could hear it in his voice, the subtext of his words, the heartache that bore each song. He communicates it in a way that is innocent and universally relatable, with stories of freshly shaven werewolves and lovesick dragons, but no less poignant.
It’s with that understanding of the sheer genius of Breathe Owl Breathe becomes clearer. Its songs are often inspired by deep spiritual frustration and suffering, but are executed with childlike innocence and sincerity. Its music pierces you in the most soulfully uplifting way imaginable. At moments, it’s positively
breathtaking, as if they’re singing to you alone in your living room, “We know how you feel and it’s gonna be ok.”
It was an amazing night and both bands were fantastic. When the last song ended, the crowd of people squeezed into the cramped venue left and everyone went their separate ways. But there was solidarity, knowing we had experienced something profound, something infinite and magical together.
As ecstatically breathless as we felt, we were reminded to “Breathe [Friend] Breathe.”
