Review: Frankie Cosmos at The Grey Eagle
Frankie Cosmos’s Sept. 24 show at The Grey Eagle could easily be summed up with two words: warm fuzzies.
Lead singer Greta Kline’s sweet voice, complemented by Luke Pyenson’s drumming, Alex Bailey on bass, and Lauren Martin’s keyboarding perfectly encompasses the feeling of coming home from school on a slow fall day, climbing into bed early, snuggling up in clean sheets, and falling asleep content.
But I do have to admit that I’m pretty biased in that sentiment, as it’s what my life looked like when I first heard Kline’s endearing melodies. In seventh grade, just discovering my own music, I stumbled across the band’s 2014 release, Next Thing. Frankie Cosmos approaches its music in such a unique, gentle manner that it worked its way into my 13-year-old heart and stayed.
Four years later, seeing Kline & Co. for the first time, the crowd’s attitude reflected the tender music as every accidental bump among fans received a “sorry” from both parties. Other generosity also emerged: At one point in the middle of the set, an older couple in front of me ushered me forward towards the stage, saying that I should watch the show, not the back of their heads. (A short person’s dream come true!) Once I moved closer up, I was able to watch the light catch the eyes of the band — there was a feeling of glee that now, right against the stage, I discovered wasn’t just billowing from the crowd, but from the musicians themselves. It’s so refreshing to see artists so enthused with their art; the pure feat of sharing it fueling a megawatt smile shared by the whole band.
As the night wore on and I shuffled back from my kindly gifted spot, my attention was drawn to the back of the crowd where a growing group of people alternated between ballroom dancing and shamelessly busting a move. Everyone lucky enough to see the impromptu dance circle had a smile on their face, the infectious energy spreading across the floor as people set aside their pride and took the moment to just be. People were dancing like no one was watching, waving their arms like Muppets and two-stepping like some kind of intoxicated Irish dancer. It was incredible.
The night wrapped up, Kline blessing us with an encore of “Sad 2,” her heart-wrenching song about pet loss — a perfectly emotional ending to the evening. I left, tears standing in my eyes from thinking about my own lost canines, feeling just as content as I was on those seventh grade afternoons.
When I got into my warm bed that night, humming “Sappho” — my favorite song from the night’s setlist — I was still reveling in those aforementioned warm-fuzzies. And while doing so, I was struck with that appreciation that can only come from an incredible concert: how lucky are we to get to experience the magic of live music?
(Photo by Adam Boehm)
