2020 The Year of Concerts: February

Don't go to concerts on a Friday night.

That's my advice.

I feel a little sad for The Arcadian Wild because they got my tired, end of the week, complaining, not in the mood to stand, contacts frosting over version of myself. This kept me a bit from totally connecting, but the point of the exercise to listen in places I haven't before. So, though I struggled a bit to stay alert - these sweet gems still taught me something with our time together.

Sometimes it's just about listening.

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From first listen, The Arcadian Wild reminded me of a cross between Nickel Creek and the early days of Judah and the Lion. There's a fiddle and there's a mandolin so honestly any Tennessee heart is close to melting just off the instruments.

It's always interesting to me how I don't really lean into the instrumentals of music other than folk. I think it has something to do with the fact that I grew up hearing this music and it defines where I'm from. Yet, the only instrument I'm bound to get lost in every time is a mandolin.

These guys had fun harmonies and some unique, unexpected break downs lyrically. They definitely have the quirky lyrics that an active listener can have fun with. 

There was nice air of not taking themselves too seriously, yet also not trying to show off or joke. This is the delight of a lot of Nashville bands. They come from music - so they don't really give into the competition. Yes, they are surrounded by talent, but it's almost like they know that everyone has a different set of ears and all they have to do is find the right set. There's a crowd that will like their music, and that's all they have to find. That Nashville confidence is the thing I wish for all artists. Yes, there are people who genuinely aren't great. But there are also a lot of talented folks that just have to find their people. The Arcadian Wild have found their people and they play like it. 

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This one is short and sweet. Check out some of their songs below.

"Silence is a stranger that I’ve never let inside

I hear him knocking, but I do not dare reply

God knows what he would say if I opened up my door

I’ll keep up this clamor so he can’t tell me the score.

Solitude’s an old friend from the other side of town

When he comes across the river I pretend I’m not around

HIs voice brings me comfort and his counsel’s always wise

But I can’t stand to face the disappointment in his eyes.

Quiet, come another time

Isn’t on my side

I need to look alive"

"Silence, A Stanger," by The Arcadian Wild