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Milo Greene & Silver Lining

Tuesday night concerts are tough for me. They're cheap (or free!) but they're mid-week, and I want to be at home and in bed before midnight, because that's how I roll. I'm so grown-up.

We drank wine and ate guacamole and talked about boys and Europe and art and adorable cats named Sawyer. I felt pleased to introduce my friends to my other friends. Second time this summer I've had a concert quartet of just-introduced ladies.

Over at the Horseshoe, ID check was perfunctory.

"Do you have your cards?" We fish them out and he doesn't even look at them.

"That's the kind of carding I like!" says one friend.

The crowd is not too big and we make our way to the edge. A band called Silver Lining plays. I'm digging the accordion and think, This sounds like an east-coast house party. They later say they're from Newfoundland, and everything about them makes more sense.


The band we came to see is Milo Greene. They opened for The Civil Wars in the fall, and their harmonies were beautiful, their melodies catching, their lyrics resonated. Same story this time around.


We laugh and whisper-yell in each others' ears and dance and watch the banjo player and wonder which of the boys in the band has a crush on the solitary female.

After, we linger to chat outside before finally parting ways. I'm happy to be headed home to sleep, and I'm grateful for nights like this.

Comments

  1. this made me smile! a lovely night indeed.

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