By: Kiani Angus-Torres

Part One: ‘This Is All Going… All To Shit’

From the moment I first heard Lightspeed Champion’s debut album, Falling off the Lavender Bridge, it became an instant classic in my personal collection, easily one of my ‘desert island’ picks.  Dev Hynes captures a sense of irony that is both embracing and alienating – something rare and pure.  He is all that is essential in current songwriting, presenting well articulated multi-instrumental arrangements formed around lyrics which immediately immerse you in a story and emotion so vivid, it’s as though you are there with him.

The first time I went to see Lightspeed Champion was in June of 2009, over a year after the release of Lavender Bridge.  Dev had only just recovered from vocal chord surgery the previous winter, and this was to be one of his first appearances in NYC since then.  It had been a full year since his songs had become a part of me, and I needed to finally see him in the flesh.

Alas, the trials of my own flesh had gotten in the way.  During the same months I fell in love with the music of Lightspeed Champion, I had also fallen into the throes of a self-destructive love affair with a boy on the Lower East Side, who lived just around the corner from the Mercury Lounge.  That same week, after months telling myself that I was in it for the aesthetic burn, a disquieting pre-occupation, my Lover on the LES and I had begun our parting talks; our ultimatums.  We either we fuck, or we’re friends.  We either hold hands, or let go.

The night of the Mercury Lounge show, I stopped at my LES Lover’s apartment, smoked some pot, blurred my buzz with a gin & tonic, and wanted to know if I could stay over after the show so I wouldn’t have to take the subway alone late that night.   He was tired, he had to work early, it wasn’t happening. ‘Should have known better than to cave in to such fantasies.’  I headed to the Mercury Lounge, alone.

It cost $12, no ins and outs – you stay, or you go.  It was crowded and narrow, and full of European and Aussie tourists, drinking their way into louder and louder debauchery, professing their love for the glory that is New York City. Ten minutes at the bar, and no juice – the bartender hadn’t even noticed me.  He was busy coyly correcting the English of some sexy Italian or Brazilian – some girl browner and more beautiful and richer and everything I could never be. ‘This is all going to shit…’  I gave up, and made my way into the venue.  It was too loud, I was too alone, my buzz was wearing off and it was all too clear.  I ran out.

“You know you can’t come back,” the doorman said.

“This place fucking sucks.”

My Lover of the LES left town for a summer holiday in the mountains in Sussex County, NJ.  We didn’t speak for a month.  I didn’t see Lightspeed Champion, but I had lived the stuff of one of Dev’s songs.

Part Two: “In your head, did you work out the route to conquer all of your fear?”

Over a year has passed. My now ex-Lover on the LES and I have attempted something resembling a friendship. Our meetings have been soaked in a welling of un-dissolved sentiments; our conversations stuttered through knotted throats.  Much like my missed connection with Lightspeed Champion, there remains something unrequited.

My relationship with Dev’s music exists in a more definitive space, mostly between my ears, and perhaps also along the New Jersey Turnpike as I speed south in my Zipcar towards Philadelphia, where Lightspeed Champion is scheduled to open for We Are Scientists.  They’re playing closer to home in Brooklyn in two nights as well, but I’ve been asked to write about a band that’s playing at Pianos at the same time.  I can’t change or control what went on with my ex-Lover on The LES, but I can get to Philly in less than two hours; I can manifest my own resolve.

I arrive at Johnny Brenda’s in Philly, get my wrist stamped, and there’s Dev, the Lightspeed Champion himself, less than twenty feet away from me, at the merch table.  I beeline to the restroom, and breathe. This isn’t just about being a fan.  It’s about what music, and what Lightspeed Champion, has done for me.  All that I can’t solve for myself, my favorite artists have sorted it out in the form of song.  Lightspeed Champion articulates things I never knew how to say, and at times things that I never knew I felt.

I introduced myself to Dev.  I told him everything – the break-up, drunken tourists, my drive from Hoboken to Philly, how I wanted to transform this breakdown into a breakthrough.  It was happening.  He would be on stage in less than an hour, finally!  But wait…

In my frantic quest to see Lightspeed Champion, it never occurred to me that he might suck.  This is a rare instance, but it does happen.  I wait in line for a show, or pay extra for tickets on the web, or travel a long distance, or all of these things combined, and either the band sucks, or the audience is lame, or both.  Could it be that after all this, Dev would let me down?

No, not quite.  It took me a little while burn through the fog my fandom before I was finally able to assess what Dev was doing.  Whereas his studio recordings are suited for a full band and ensemble, with some brass and classical strings, Dev showed up with only an electric guitar, his Mac book, and a voice that showed a full range of soul, croon, and rock. He played each song with a refreshing flow, often veering off into his own feeling of how it should sound, while maintaining its basic framework.  For some songs, including ‘There’s Nothing Underwater’, Dev sought the help of his Mac book for full instrumentals, while he sung into the mike with his hands tucked in his pockets.  At times it seemed as though he were karaoke-ing himself; as he paced the stage, rocking out, he could just as easily be alone in his bedroom. Yet he brought an undeniable sincerity, showing that his thrift in playing without a band really allowed him to find the best way to draw you in.  I still would have liked to see him with a back up band or ensemble of some kind.

I drove home at 3:00AM, after getting carried away with some friends from High School in West Philly.  At 7:00AM the next morning I woke up and got ready to go to work without a wink of sleep in my eye, ready to take on the day.  While I had spent countless sleepless nights and groggy days pining over my ex-Lover on the LES, spending most of the night driving down to Philly and back to watch Dev perform didn’t faze me.  A year ago I had lived the stuff of Dev’s songs, and although my resolve with my ex-Lover on the LES may remain on some elusive distant plane, I can at least say I fulfilled my quest to see Lightspeed Champion.