This was my first time at the Thorsen House, a very historic home that houses the Sigma Phi Society. Walking down to the house was quite a venture within itself. My friend and I started at Dwight and Piedmont, and strolled towards Bancroft. Every other house lined up on Piedmont was elegant and posh with neoclassical-style architecture, white pillars on the porch and rich-red brick chimneys. I looked up and was stunned by a gorgeous wooden bungalow that stood out from any house on that street that I’d seen. It stood tall and stretched around the corner, as big as a palace and as cozy as a getaway cabin.
We walked up the brick steps where there stood two people taking tickets, “I’m with B-Side” I said. “Okay!” one of them said, then grabbed a red pen, and marked my right hand with a red line. Not sure if that was supposed to symbolize my presence at the backyard show; maybe it meant nothing, but he felt he should do something, so he marked my hand with the first pen he could find. We walked up to the fence and as soon as I walked in, the first thing I noticed was a 20-foot inflatable gorilla. I thought it was quite silly but on-brand for a college fraternity. I looked to my left and saw they were finishing up setting the stage, on the back porch, for the bands. This majestic yet homey, treehouse-esque bungalow curved around its own backyard, and they had decorated it with little fairy lights that were missing a few bulbs here and there but, it definitely set the scene. My friend and I waited around for a while, admiring the home before the bands began to play around 8:30 p.m.
For the record, I hate house parties. I hate talking to people and having to converse in general, it doesn’t bode well for me; social situations stress me out. I think that’s why I prefer the shows. Dissociating to some good music for a couple of hours is my ideal night out. The aspect of socializing isn’t essential to having a good time when seeing a band the way as opposed to when you’re at a house party. The significance of your existence in a concert/contribution to the atmosphere is simply listening and supporting the artist and their music. I will contradict myself just this once, but the other reason I love going to shows is because I instantly feel connected to everybody in the room without having to talk to them. I suppose I enjoy having intimacy without physical contact, which I’ve found is possible through music.
It was already around 8:15 pm, we were still waiting. It was St. Patrick’s weekend so I figured I should wear green, low and behold the only green thing in my closet was a small, thin, tank top so I threw over a sweater thinking it would be fine, and it wasn’t fine because we were outside, in the cold, and my lips were quivering, and I shoved my now, pink fingertips in my armpits, waiting for the show to start. The first band of the night was Trixie. The low-budget college band nights don’t usually promise great sound quality and mixing, but you never know unless you go. Without a doubt, Trixie was not one of those bands receiving any pity cheers from me. You can tell I’m captivated by the music when I just stand there admiring their music, like an old man looking at their freshly cut lawn. I was blown away by not just their well-executed, emo-punk songs but their eccentric voices as well. The singers had very distinct voices, but they leaned into their vocal classifications seamlessly with their instruments to create such a nostalgic yet funky sound.
Trixie Band
I looked behind me by the end of the first act, and what was about twenty people at the beginning of the night had turned into 50, and slowly but surely, the crowd began to grow as the night went on. Blind Date was next on stage, and their presence was endearing in the sense that you could tell just by looking at the way they interacted with each other that they were enjoying themselves as much as the rest of the crowd was. Blind Date’s energy was undeniably contagious. The music was playful, pop-rock/indie-rock and they got the crowd to sing along with them to a cover of My Bloody Valentine’s “When You Sleep.” The crowd grew louder and larger. By the end of the night, the backyard of this magic treehouse would be filled with drunken college kids moshing and stage diving in the spirit of St. Patty’s Day.
Blind Date Band
I usually like standing near the front because I love to have the music vibrating and physically shaking my face and eardrums; I like to feel the music.. In one of the earlier moshes throughout the night, one guy fell on top of another one’s head; he got up like it was nothing. Someone leaned over me and was screaming slurred delirium in my ear that was already numbed from standing in front of the speakers. There were a few instances of crowd surfing, but how could one not feel the need to throw themselves over people when the music just makes you feel so alive? By the time Blum and Starpower’s sets played I wasn’t sure if it was the music or the cheering deafening me. “We’re a band called Blum and we live down the street”, said Blum’s lead singer before playing their playful and groovy rock set. Blum moved with their own music in a way that felt like they were part of the crowd too, creating and facilitating the comfortable and welcoming atmosphere of the Thorsen bungalow. There were still people jumping around and squeezing against one another in the crowd up until the last act, Hazy Portraits, who I have actually heard of before coming to Thorsen’s St. Patrick’s weekend show. They certainly lived up to the hype. The movement of swaying and colliding, meshed with the sounds of loopy 18 to 20-something-year-olds applauding for their friends/local bands never died; and seemed to grow with the last act, Hazy Portraits coming onto the stage.
I walked into the house in between sets to warm myself up throughout the night where people wearing green sparkles around their eyes, and bright green tops were talking and lining up to use the bathroom. My friend and I were leaning against the heater when I heard a blonde with tiny shorts say, “Please promise me you’ll take care of me if I get blackout drunk, like hold my hair if I throw up.” Oh, blonde with tiny shorts, what a life you live. About ten seconds later, a group of frat boys would brisk past us and I’d hear, “Ya it’s gonna be so lit! We’re gonna be so faded!” Oh, to be a free and careless frat boy. The Thorsen Frat is almost exactly a 3-minute walk from Cal. I’ve come to realize that some of the greatest stressors we have to deal with as high-achievers are those we put on ourselves, but good music, intertwined with the comfort of community and lots of beer, allows for these intense emotions to be released all within a single night. Thank you to all the bands who not only played incredible music but interacted with the audience in a way that was open and inviting. These remarkably talented college kids were giving their all to keep the energy of the night going, cheering with their hands over their heads, waving at their friends who were in the bands playing, and throwing their bodies against one another in the mosh pit. This could really be said about any school but I suppose I’m just amused with the multi-faceted wonder that is Berkeley nerds.
Article by Jessica Balderas
Photos by Magnus Dorré
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