Photos and writing by Frances Edwards-Hughes.

A rolled-out Persian rug, brass lamps to light up their pedals, stacks of shitty romcom books, and incense burning. Jeans with paint on them, and hats worn a hundred times—the sweat marks turning the blue fabric green. Yellow and red. Sunshine and loving. Caamp articulates their band’s music through their setup; they put on a show before they even start singing.

It’s the 1st of August, which means summer’s coming to an end, but it’s about to get the hottest it’s been. 

The show’s at Dune Peninsula, a new outdoor Showbox venue surrounded by the Sound. This couldn’t be a better setting to listen to some folk. Even though I’m there an hour before the openers, the line is already stretched a mile long along the water, giving me an idea of just how beloved this music is.

Futurebirds come out with boundless energy, making the fans hanging on the barricade laugh, dance, and smile. ​​They are kind-spirited—you can see it, even just as they’re up on stage. Their sound is country; it’s like weathered wood floors and boots stomping. Daniel Womack, the guitarist, talks with the crowd in between songs. He stays back after they finish, signing autographs and taking pictures. He plays music like it’s in his blood—the way he plays makes it seem like music chose him. He gives me a fist bump before I enter the pit to take photos.

This is always my favorite moment of a concert. When the lights flash, the eyes of people who have been waiting for years to hear their favorite band perform start swelling. The anticipation of the crowd behind you—as a photographer, you’re sitting between the love and the creation that makes it all happen. Caamp walks onto the stage, drinks in their hands, smiling softly, fitting right into the curated scene that’s been set. And then they start singing about falling for someone, about the colors you see when you are first in love.

They keep the crowd upbeat and dancing along with the first bit of their set, playing tunes like Huckleberry Love and Vagabond—a crowd favorite that lets us escape to a place where we’re a traveler, where we are not caught up in anything but the way the river flows and what the moon looks like from one night to the next.

They bring us back down for a few slower ones: Fairview Feeling, a song about reflection, making peace with everything, and Wolf Song, clinging to its chorus’s lyrics: “I’m always thinking of you, always thinking I could love you more.” The words are simple, but they send you reeling. They remind you of someone you lost in the search for yourself. Everyone can hear their own story in Taylor’s raspy voice, echoing that same sentiment over and over.

The concert is perfectly planned—they transition back to rocking out with the end of Somewhere. They keep us entertained all the way until the encore. Every member of the band has something worth noticing, something that draws you in—Taylor’s husky voice and charm, Evan’s quiet charisma and beautifully played guitar and banjo, and harmonizing. They met when they were kids, Taylor and Evan, and you can tell that this is their dream: playing music that sounds like road trips and bonfires, and watching the sunset.

By the time they come out for the last three songs, the sky’s turned a dark blue, the stars are trickling out. They surprise the crowd by bringing out Richy Mitch as a guest to play Evergreen. Everyone screams so loudly that one of my ears starts to fizzle and go out, but that’s just how you know it’s going to be good. By and By is the final song before they exit, and the sidewalks along the water fill with people again. It’s a perfect warm summer night, and kayakers are still out; they paddled in to listen from the Sound. Once they hear the crowd erupt with noise and the music stops, they start heading home, wishing they had brought flashlights. The kayakers load their stuff up into their car and start driving to wherever it is that they decide to go next. Once they get out far enough, there’s no one on the roads anymore. They start going a hundred miles an hour in the fast lane.