A Letter to Bastille

Bastille, Bastille, Bastille…

Oh what a wonder you’ve been; the dark times mellowed by good songs and beats that you’ve ingrained into my head. I’ve been listening to you since the early ages of middle school, into the crazy years that were my teens, and now that I’m (just a bit) past those years, I finally got to catch a live performance of yours this past August at Reading Festival in the UK. Following my return to the Windy City for another academic year, I was granted press to your show at The Chicago Theater. For record keeping, your show last Wednesday, October 2nd, was my first time at The Theatre; I have to say it’s the most iconic venue in the area and perhaps the world! 

Like my time spent in England, grooving to your set in that big, darn, old tent, this show was an experience I will remember for the rest of my life. Cruising through The Chicago Theatre’s beauty, amazed and surprised to be seated in the 9th row, aisle seat, directly in the middle, I felt honored. This feeling reminded me of words from your new album’s self-titled song, “Doom Days”, “when I watch the world burn, all I think about is you”.

There are many times I feel like I’m watching the world burn. Sometimes it feels more like living through the world burn - I mean - global warming is real, forests are burning, our planet is dying. Music is what gets me through these “the-world-is-ending” anxieties. The beats, the words of encouragement, and seemingly inexpressible feelings all come alive in music. 

Awaiting Bastille’s arrival to the stage, I couldn’t stop thinking of the set I was about to experience and I realized this performance was a manifestation of my dreams.

To say the least, I was not disappointed. To say the most, it was an exceptional, moving show of human culture; a tangible portrayal of the way music brings people together. The way you brought your new music to life with three acts, a clock, and set changes was incomparable. There are many times I look around shows, and take in the weirdness of it all. I love it so much - people grooving, singing, not giving a damn, all while making a memory that’ll last a lifetime.

Like your performance, Doom Days tells the story of a night. I must say, though, the experiences you bring into people’s lives, from day to day, are not something that a night can contain. They transcend a night, exist beyond, push you forward, and they come up when you’re least expecting it - a.k.a the beginning of junior year when you convince yourself to fly across the world to camp at Reading to finally see you play.

I want to take a second to thank my Juniper Team and co-founders Kelley Sloot and Saloni Jaisingh for giving me opportunities like this - to see performances by some of my favorite artists in the beautiful venues of Chicago. Writing these articles gives me a chance to reflect on the show, and just how fucking great music (and production) is. Thank you Bastille and your openers, Joywave, for October 2nd at the Chicago Theater.

I look forward to our next experience together, and to writing more about my experience and time at Reading Festival this summer. It still doesn’t feel real, but maybe writing about it will give it a chance to process. 

Until then, be safe, mate; remember you CAN make it through “Those Nights”, from “Quarter After Midnight” to “4AM” and through the “Bad Decisions” and “Nocturnal Creatures”. “The Waves” that are life will eventually “Divide” into a “Million Pieces”, and you’ll awake in “Another Place”, searching for “Joy”, and to be a little “Happier”, as you watch the world burn and live through your sweet, sweet “Doom Days”.

Peace out Bastille, you’re fucking awesome!

Love,
Evan.