Real Estate @ Hampshire College, Monday Sept 6th 2010

    Let's be honest, this wasn't a My Bloody Valentine or Sleep reformation epic - you just can't pull that kind of event at a place like the Hampshire library lawn, for better or worse. It wasn't going to be about embracing an extreme of any kind, either.  Was just about one guy in uncomfortably tight jeans and a shortsleeve shirt with his buddies, returning to his college's lawn for the sake of good times.

And good times were had.

After the less than memorable DJ set preceding Real Estate's show, a flock of people ran from every direction towards the tent to the sound of Beach Comber, a song that doesn't seem to get old. Population under said tent went from 30, half sitting, to at least 200, all standing and wiggling to the band's joyful harmonics. Sound was surprisingly pristine, the reverberating guitars echoing at will throughout the bands show. The performance was only occasionally bothered by some feedback: considering how many people here think feedback is music, it probably didn't bother that much.

Running through their first album as well as a bunch of new numbers, some untitled, some almost leaning towards heavy surf riffing, the 4 lads impressed not by their professionalism or skills (which they did have in respectable amounts anyways) but by their Beach Boys-like good vibrations. From the guitar player talking about his own days at Hampshire to everyone else being generally friendly to each other, this felt like a nice way to start the semester. It wasn't really about individual songs or lyrics, but more about the "enjoy yourselves" atmosphere. Newcomer or returning student, everyone present at the show seemed to appreciate and bond over how well this music fit the lush Massachusetts landscape on that pleasant summer night.

The audience loved Real Estate so much in fact, that about 30 of them decided it would be fun to jump on the unoccupied part of the stage for the last 2 songs, letting loose a frenzy of fifti-er than thou dance moves between the amps that almost transformed into a hug orgy. It also meant that Martin Courtney's guitar would get unplugged, letting him barely enough time to plug back for the last verse of the show. But when the band went back to full power on those last 15 seconds, they hit the audience with all the power of the frenzied psych surf band they are - approximately equal to that of a giant stuffed Kirby being parachuted on your head from a low-orbit satellite.

"Where are the parties? If anyone wants to hang out after the show… well… we'll be around."

- Real Estate drummer

He would be seen the next day at nearby all-girl Smith College, wearing the clothes he had at the show, checking his Facebook. Congrats to him.

photos by Kevin Schwenkler

JNCT

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