I now have the pleasure of introducing you to something beautiful. Please welcome, Passion Pit.
I was wondering what kind of band it would be that would get the gig before Mumford & Sons and the Pixies at Splendour. Having been locked out of Florence and the Machine because the Woodford amphitheatre was dangerously full (that would have to mean well over 12,000 people, I reckon), there was little doubt that this was a prize spot on the bill. Would it be a rubbish fill-in band whose record company paid up big to get them the exposure? Would it be a rave to get energy up? An 'Xican idol' winner?
Not knowing what to expect I began looking around for a bit of space on which to sit. The man two blades of grass over from me looked on with amusement. "Don't worry about finding a place to sit.", he said. "You won't be sitting down for long."
And he was so right.
Moments into the first layers of synths and keys mixed in with smart drum beats, I was standing up, and moving as only a white man can. I've never been more at home with a man singing in that register! (Including the time Dan Saunders and I shocked our pastor by singing 'Take Your Mama Out' on Singstar in the correct register. Some lyrics he wasn't quite prepared for.)
It was pop. Nearly pure pop. But it was also complex, subtle and had some freakin' energy! It's hard to capture a feeling of fresh excitement. Being made happy by someone's music whom you'd not known of moments before. An anxious afternoon transformed into joyful jumping is no mean feat when an intense Russian male is involved.
And yet, it was so.
Hats off.
For your listening pleasure, can I suggest, Passion Pit? Live, if you can possibly arrange it.