The first time I saw Jamestown Revival was at the High Dive in Seattle. I was living in the city then, but not happily. I was desperately missing my past life of hills and woods and bonfires and stars, necessities of life, I’d later call them. I went to the show alone on a weekday night and was one of maybe a dozen people there. It was 2014 and no one fought or even nudged me for my front and center spot.
I had come down with an awful cold and started work at 6:30 the next morning, but that’s not what I remember. What I remember was how their voices fit together and when they sang the whole world fell together again. They sang about being broke, nature as medicine, the wild west and a sense of home. I wasn’t alone in going after what I wanted, unlike the city had me believing.