A Strange Magic | John Butler Trio Live Review + Monica Heldal | Plaza Live Orlando | November 6 2014

by Dainon Moody • November 10, 2014

This is not a think piece: rather, it’s a practice in long observation. Join me?

Sometimes you want to go to a concert in order to cast off whatever else you’ve got weighing you down in your regular life, not because you’re exactly a rabid fan of the music being played, but because it’s really very good, just right even. It’s akin to sprawling out on a favorite soft couch, kicking off your shoes, and allowing your mind to drift elsewhere. It’s comfortable, and that’s a vast understatement. There are no chairs to speak of, just a cool enveloping darkness, fans of all ages spread out, either at rapt attention and waiting for the next time they can get away with cheering or content to lean into a wall, stare directly at their phone, and treat the visiting band as the best background music they ever did pay $30 for. One song blends casually into the next, making this less a presentation and more a conversation, the back and forth, the push and pull. Red lights swirl around the three men on the stage who’ve brought colossal grins along with them and their instruments to The Sunshine State. They can’t believe they don’t get around here more often, and say so. They resort to revealing they are happy to be here, but they don’t need to say that part, not really—they’ve shown us, from the first song on, that they are in their happiest place. We feed on their energy, occasionally raise a sloshy beer in the air to emphasize that fact (the beer raising having replaced our dancing). This is jam music and these are the jams and, eyes closed, it occasionally sounds like Dave Matthews and his band (not that there’s anything terribly wrong with that, not this time). There’s a banjo that keeps showing up, too, and a little celebratory flip flop of the heart takes place each time, especially when it attaches itself to a gorgeous instrumental that careens off to another universe. This is the kind of night for leaning in real close to a woman and stealing kisses, too, because a) it’s pretty dark in here, after all b) there’s a live soundtrack to set the mood and c) she actually seems to enjoy kissing back. And there are more red lights and more sweet sounds, ear candy, snapped videos to peek at and brag about later. The connectedness grows thicker as the night churns on. This is the web you have chosen to place yourself in the midst of. You are good and stuck. You have made the conscious decision to choose this reality. You chose right.

And when that—all of it—happens, you find you’re at the John Butler Trio concert at The Plaza Live on a Thursday. You’re just down the street from your own house and it’s a beautiful night in the neighborhood. You’re standing amongst a lot of new friends, even though you only know a few of their names. You’re rubbing shoulders. You’re falling deeper into this feeling than you ever thought you might. You decide, all at once, there’s no place in the world you’d rather be.