Frannie Edwards-Hughes 

Madame Lou’s! A cozy basement venue in Belltown, Central Seattle—cafes, restaurants, boutiques, and galleries in every direction. Street parking, walking a few blocks, familiarizing myself with a colder night. Whispers of summer have turned into the silence of late fall and winter. No line when we arrive, a stamp on my left hand, a flashlight scanning the contents of my bag, and a spoken “okay” to enter. Down a long, wide set of black-painted stairs, a pool of people below, seeing everything from up above before we too join the crowd. Everyone is dressed in similar clothes, their hair cut, styled, and dyed the same, but there’s a hint of difference in each smile that flashes when the lights go down and a uniqueness in each pair of eyes that widen when the music starts playing. 

Small Crush, a four-person indie rock band from the Bay Area, opens for Boyscott. Logan Hammon, their main singer, feels like Clairo, 2017, and bright colors. You can’t help but be drawn to the energy they have—you can’t help but sway, then dance, and then headbang a little. By the end of the first song, I follow them on Spotify and mouth, “They are so good, wtf?” to my friend, to which she fervently agrees.

They close out, opening up the stage for the indie pop group of five—Boyscott. A Nashville band led by the sweet-sounding Scott Hermo, who charms us with his kind, awkward talk and self-effacing ways. Even though he is sick and has to play the entire set sitting down, his music still speaks to the crowd, in a nostalgic, summer-camp, soft-melody kind of way. They are wearing clothes with birds on them, which makes my heart happy, and therefore echoes what their music seems to do.

I’m elated after they play, feeling inspired by how close we all were—everyone watching, everyone paying attention to these wonderful people sharing their creations. Hermo thanks us endlessly for coming, and love is spewed in every direction—at least that’s what it felt like to me.