I couldn’t make tonight’s Bright Eyes show at the House of Blues. Here’s what my friend, who is at the show, just texted me:
“God came down with a symphony of angels and landed on Conor Oberest’s shoulder and quietly whispered ‘play son’ into his ear. And the crowd took a knee and gently wept from the beauty.”
I’m not yet a huge fan of the new album, but now I regret my decision not to go.