Rubblebucket brings pure fucking joy wherever they go. I’m not kidding. I have never been sad at a Rubblebucket concert, and I have been sad at a lot of shows. The first time I saw them live was also the first time my family and I smoked weed together. We all went to the Green River Festival in Massachusetts, where Rubblebucket was headlining. This is a very classic Pioneer Valley festival, so I had a lot of friends who were also there with their parents. It was just past dark, my family and I huddled in a little grove of trees and shared our first bowl[1], but certainly not our last. After smoking together, I decided I actually did not want to be high around my parents just yet, so I went off to find my friends at the front of the crowd waiting for the set to start.
It was fucking bonkers. Rubblebucket
puts on a great show. The lights, the balloons, the horns, the choreographed dances,
the audience participation, it all filled my heart so much I thought it would
burst[2].
This album is called Survival Sounds, but it does more than survive. This album
creates space for thriving. The lead singer wrote most of these songs as she
underwent chemotherapy, lending these songs a deeper undertone of gratitude
that radiates outward to whoever listens.
The next time I saw them live was
in Baltimore. None of my friends would commit to going to the show with me, and
I was about to go alone until my roommate decided to join. It was just the two
of us in the crowd at the Ottobar, and the whole audience danced together in such
a communal, lovely way, that I forgot where I was. Rubblebucket has the ability
to transport you out of whatever environment or mood you came into the show
with. After, I felt so much closer to the roommate who came with me. I honestly
felt like we had gone through some kind of life-changing acid trip together,
despite the fact that we were very sober[3].
The most recent time I saw them, I
convinced my boyfriend to drive up to Massachusetts for a festival Rubblebucket
created. The lineup had enough bands we loved to make it worthwhile, and my
sister and family friend Helen[4]
had a booth selling their jewelry and ceramics, so we got to hang out with them
between sets. We were both tired and grumpy from a long day in the heat, but I
convinced James to stay on his feet for their set. His face as all the balloons
and confetti and pure energy surged through the crowd was proof that it was
worth the wait.
I really suggest you listen to this
band whenever you need a boost, and whenever the world can accommodate touring
again, do everything in your power to see them live. It’s a pure,
life-affirming experience that this short essay can’t do proper justice in
describing. “Sound of Erasing” and “My Life” are my favorite songs on this album.
“Came Out Of A Lady” on their earlier album Omega La La is also a deep classic.
[1] In
college, when I accidentally left this bowl in a dining hall and Public Safety
confiscated it, I asked for it back citing it as a “family heirloom”. I don’t
think I was wrong, but they did not give it back.
[2]
Pardon the cliché, it’s just true
[3] Not
to be one of those people who are like “you don’t need drugs to get high!!!!” cause
that’s a high horse I do not ride on
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