We Sleep Until the Sun Goes Down

If you have the chance to see Of Monsters and Men in concert, do it. Don’t hesitate. Don’t check your bank account first. Just do it.


The folk pop group from Iceland played at Le Trianon on Tuesday night to a full house. As the concert began, the seven musicians materialized out of the darkness in a halo of purple light, the melancholic melodie of “Dirty Paws” echoing in the background. They hit the chorus and the entire amphitheater came alive with a flash of light and a crash of hands. From that moment on, the band, the audience, we were all electrified.


Of Monsters and Men gave one of the most genuine, passionate, energetic performances I’ve ever seen. The cracking of Nanna’s voice in “Love, Love, Love,” the ceaseless pounding of the bass drum, the playful laughing between songs—it was obvious that their hearts were in the music, and that they’d captured our hearts with the music, too.

They finished with “Yellow Light,” an eery, yet hopeful song. It seemed every person in the theatre was singing along as the drums beat and beat and beat. We didn’t want to let go of the experience, to lose sight of the yellow light.


Leaving Le Trianon, I felt like I’d just returned from a distant fantasy land filled with magical creatures and surrounded by treacherous seas, inhabited by daydreamers searching for love and clutching at wounded hearts. When I stepped out into the snowy Parisian streets, I realized that perhaps Of Monsters and Men had not transported me to foreign world, but had, instead, merely revealed to me reality.

Funny, what music can do.



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