Boy & Bear @ Enmore Theatre
Holly Blackmore
Crying at concerts has become quite the norm for me - this Boy & Bear gig was no exception. As the opening chords of Big Man drifted through the theatre, I was transported back to my childhood bedroom. Circa 2014, magazine pages torn & plastered over the wall, this song washing through my space like water. Through all the noise and self-abuse, you waited for your fill of truth. I cried for this teenager, for the good and bad times she had yet to come.
This concert was the perfect re-entry point for Boy & Bear fans, preceding their new album Suck On Light by only a few weeks. They played plenty of crowd favourites - Rabbit Song, Feeding Line - and a stack of new hits to match. I made friends with a group of parents in the mosh beside me, who were stoked to finally see the band live after so many years. We clinked drinks and exchanged the lighthearted chatter that slips teeth in the electric anticipation between acts.
It always seems to be about two-thirds in that my breathing gets shallow. A lump grows in my throat & tears well in my eyes. These days I just let them fall. A wandering woman, with a spirit so sworn of the riverside. My mind wandered from the beautiful performance before me to afternoons spent laying with the album on repeat. Copying out lyrics in my best handwriting. Trying to make sense of a world that gave no meaning; but Boy & Bear gave something of the sort. Never before has a band made me feel so safe, held and understood.
There was a sense of catharsis as I wandered out onto the streets of Newtown, and caught my hour-or-so train back down the coast. Perhaps it was a sense of wholeness. As my carriage raced through the pitch-black forest, my mind was at ease, basking in memories.
Listen to the new album [ here ]
“We walked it for a thousand years
With broken eyes and salted ears
Complaining ‘bout the weather like we ever had a choice
Through all the noise and self abuse
You waited for your fill of truth
Now I’m terrified I’ll achieve nothing at all”