Nighmade by preparation. The quiet ones. The loud ones. The in-betweens. The restless ones. And the recoveries. We may have routines, schedules, and preparations. These days, I might need melatonin to journey with me from night to day, to darkness to sunlight. We carry into the evening the memories of the day and journey into a new one. ts are


A concert may be the one place where darkness signals arrival. The lights dim. The Beaches have arrived. It’s the opposite of morning, with sound effects, vibrating phone sounds, and conversations through effective sound design that continued through the show. It heightened the anticipation. A little intention can go a long way.


Leandra Earl, guitarist for The Beaches, prepared the room for her song “Lesbian of the Year,” a song encapsulating their own journey of coming out. It was one of the only pauses of the show. “Let’s get through this journey together,” Earl invited the audience.



It’s only seven, right?
It’s only eight, right?
Actually, it’s only 10:12 pm. 10:12 pm! Even with an encore, as “Last Girl at the Party,” again provided the light before leaving in the dark, it was only 10:30 pm when I hopped into a Lyft. The driver inquired about the band listed on the Roadrunner billboard. And then suddenly, there it is again, “Last Girl at the Party” playing out of the sedan’s car speakers. It was immensely quieter than the show. And the Last Girl at the Party was the last thing I heard, a spark of light into the dark and humid night.
I “Blame Brett.”
