Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros at the Beaumont
Dear Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros,
Hi. I’m Elke. And, after watching your howling, exuberant, cathartic show at the Beaumont last night in Kansas City, I’d like to humbly submit my request to be in your band. Please? Sure, there are other indie rock bands that may be cooler than you (hey, no offense). They might even let me spit on the crowd, or writhe on the ground and break shit. But very few bands seem to legitimately enjoy themselves on stage — and hell, I wanna get in on that. I’ll even wear suspenders, I swear.
Can’t I just bang on a tambourine or something?
No? One of the ten of you already has that covered?
Dammit.
Can you blame me? Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros’ enthusiasm was catching at the Beaumont last night. With a fervor recalling the sweaty, infectious delirium of a tent revival, Alex Ebert and his collective of freewheeling musicians roused the crowd with the band’s ramshackle alt-country.
