The Fruit Bats: A Concert Experience

If you read my post, “What’s Self-Love Anyway?” you may remember me discussing the fact that when Josh has a band he wants to see in concert, I will bend over backwards to make it happen. Yet, when I find myself drawn to a band that’s nearby, I find every excuse for why it simply won’t work out. Well, 2023 is the year I knock that off. I bought the tickets, dammit.

The Fruit Bats are an Indie band, consisting mostly of a man named Eric D. Johnson. He writes and sings all of his songs, and the band members themselves are pretty fluid, changing from one album to the next. I can’t remember how I first discovered them, just that the first album I heard was called Absolute Loser. I still stand by the statement that it’s one of the best albums ever. Every song fails to disappoint. When I saw that the Fruit Bats were coming to Indy, I was excited yet hesitant. It was on a Wednesday, meaning Josh would have to use his precious vacation time to accompany me. I assured and reassured him that, “It’s totally fine. We don’t need to go.” He pushed back, insistent. I found tickets online, and upon hitting “confirm purchase,” I immediately felt a wave of relief and excitement wash over me. The countdown began.

School has been absolutely nuts this semester, and having this concert to look forward to was probably one of my better decisions in life. It was a light in the dark, bleak reality that is nursing school. Some Wednesday in April rolled around, and the day had finally come. I began my morning bright and early for my 8 a.m. lecture. The really cool thing about nursing school is that our lectures are 3 hours long. I sat in class until 11 a.m., keyed up and excited for what lay ahead. After class, I went to a doctor’s appointment. I originally had planned to get coffee with one of my friends, but then an injury demanded my attention.

After my appointment, I cleaned my apartment and did what I could to kill time. I woke Josh up around 4:30 p.m., and then we readied ourselves for the evening. The concert was at a venue called The Hi-Fi in Indianapolis. It’s a cozy, intimate venue that can hold up to 400 people. The weather outside was beautiful, but their outdoor stage had yet to open for the season. The opener was a band called V. V. Lightbody, one I’d never heard of. Josh played some of their songs on our way to the concert, and I’m grateful he did, because songs are so much better when you’re somewhat familiar with them. They played at least two of the songs that we’d pregamed with.

The peak of V. V.’s performance was their intense flute duet. It took me back to my high school band days, in all the best ways. The lead singer was personable, relating each of her songs to the meanings behind them before performing for us. Most of them were about what it’s like being thirty and single. Their final song rang out, and I was a bit buzzed from the three White Claws I’d been drinking. My moment was approaching. I ran to the bathroom, and when I got out, I grabbed Josh’s hand and pulled him up as close to the stage as we could get. We settled in, waiting for Eric D. Johnson to grace us with his presence.

When the man walked onto stage, I felt like I was on fire with anticipation. Without him having to say or do anything, I was already close to crying. I don’t really know why music has the tendency to affect me that way, but it does. The Fruit Bats then preceded to play one of the best concerts I’ve ever seen.

“We’re gonna play one last song, but we all know that’s not true,” Eric told us before breaking out into Humbug Mountain Song, one of my Top 3 favorite Fruit Bats songs. I screamed involuntarily. The people around me were likely annoyed. I felt self conscious of my surroundings. Yes, I was buzzed, but I was also so excited to be alive and witness to these songs being played live. In that moment, I felt like I was the biggest fan of Fruit Bats. I screamed their lyrics at the top of my lungs. The interesting thing about being so close to the stage is that I could feel Eric D. Johnson avoiding eye contact with everyone. I imagine it’s a defense mechanism or something. It’d probably make him too nervous to see all the very real human beings around him as he performed. At least, I can imagine that’s how I would feel in his position.

After their “last song,” the band went on to play a couple more from their newest album, that was to be released on Friday of that week (which reminds me that I still need to listen to that, what kind of fan am I?) Then, far too soon, it was over. Josh and I filed out of the venue, and walked into the unseasonably warm night air. We found my car easily, and made our way home. The next day, I watched all of the videos I’d taken. It still didn’t feel totally real. The venue was such a cool one to see one of my favorite bands. I’d buy those tickets again in a heartbeat.

I’d like to think of this all as a lesson learned. Mostly a lesson to stop doing mental gymnastics to keep yourself from feeling happy. Sometimes, it’s okay to just let yourself be happy. It’s okay to do things for yourself, even if it means that another person has to take vacation time off work to help make it happen. It’s okay to scream your heart out even when the people around you seem a bit annoyed by your presence. You paid for your tickets just the same as they did. You are just as deserving of that space as they are. It’s a slow process, but I’m getting there.

Until next time ~