Doors 7pm // Show 8pm // Ages 21+ // $30 Advance & $34 Day of Show
***This is a standing room general admissions show. There will be a limited number of chairs located in the back of the concert hall. Seating will be first come first served. The restaurant will be open for dinner starting at 4pm.
Felton Music Hall Presents:
I never learned how to swim.
In years of sailing, I never let the water touch me. The ocean was an abstract dread,an obliterating void as untenable as outer space.
In January 2018 we went on tour. After years of scraping by, we found our footingwith our fourth record Yours Conditionally. It was a commercial success that set us up to toplay the biggest rooms of our career. But three shows in, I developed a raging case of influ-enza. Each night I dragged myself onstage and croaked out the set in a delirium. After aparticularly bad soundcheck, Patrick asked me if we should cancel the show. I couldn’t im-agine giving up the thing we’d work so hard to achieve. “I’ll be on stage even if you have tomic my coffin,” I joked.
The next morning I fainted and had a seizure while grocery shopping for breakfast.Patrick carried me through the check-out lanes screaming for a doctor. I woke later in a hos-pital bed. Patrick leaned over me, crying. “That’s it,” he said. “I’m canceling the tour. Ithought you were dead. We’re quitting the band. I’m going to be an accountant.” But I wason the mend. We missed two shows and pressed on.
During sound check at the 930 club, Patrick stepped out to take a phone call. His fa-ther had been in the hospital all week, but he had cancer and brief hospitalizations wereroutine. Back at the hotel that night, Patrick poured two shots of whiskey and handed meone. “I’d like to toast my dad.” He said. “The doctors offered to put him on life-support togive me a chance to fly out there, but I didn’t want him to suffer. Instead I said goodbye.”
Patrick went home to grieve with his family and rejoined us on the road two dayslater. I couldn’t believe how quickly our lives had unraveled in the midst of what was sup-posed to be a milestone in our career. As the tour continued, we found refuge in playingmusic together. Songwriting had always been an extension of our inner-world. Now we re-treated to that world every time we stepped onstage.
After the final show of our tour in Austin, we received another phone call. Patrick’smother Karen was in the hospital on the brink of a stroke. We got on a plane and wentstraight to her bedside. Her recovery took weeks. In the hospital waiting room, I wrote theopening line of “Matrimony II”: I only have certainty when you hold my hand.
On a hot July day, after Karen’s return to good health, we sailed as a family into thePacific and scattered Edward’s ashes at sea. I marked our position on the chart with a smallx. The album was already well under way. In that moment, I realized what I wanted to callit.
Swimmer is a tour of the darkest time in our lives. But it is not a dark record. Namedfor the feeling of suspension and upendedness that characterized this period, it is the storyof deep-rooted companionship strengthened by pain and loss. These songs carried usthrough our grief. It is us at our most vulnerable, so we kept a small footprint, recordingeverything ourselves in our home studio. I set out to describe the love I have come to knowafter ten years of marriage, when you can no longer remember your life before that person,when the spark of early attraction has been replaced by a gravitational pull.
with special guest MOLLY BURCH