In the past year, I have developed a bit of an Avett Brothers problem. Ever since seeing their live show for the first time in July 2012, I’ve been gone. One year to the date from my first show, in July 2013, I saw my fourth show (that last one was at Red Rocks, and literally a dream come true).
The Avett Brothers at the Orpheum Theater in Madison, WI (show #2 for me). Photo credit: Matt Apps, Devious Photo http://www.deviousphoto.com/
Why do I love them so much, you ask?
It’s their music, of course—their melodies, harmonies, smart lyrics, their contagious, punkish energy at a live show—but it’s more than that. I respect what they stand for—love, kindness, raw emotion, family, simplicity, humor, vulnerability. I don’t know them personally, but they are so accessible that they have made me feel like I do. For me, they are the total package as musicians. I love them more than I have loved any other musician or band, and rationally, I can’t explain why. Simply put, they just make me happy (and sometimes profoundly sad). They make me feel.
I listen to other music, I see other bands live, and I enjoy them. But there’s just something about The Avett Brothers. If I go awhile between hearing their songs, when I listen to them again, a tidal wave of relief washes over me. The proverbial heroin has been released into my bloodstream. It’s an orgasm of sound. An Avettgasm. (You can quote me on that last one.)
Sometimes, that feeling is best drug in the world. Their music has truly helped me deal with some difficult times in my life. But there are times when I wonder if my obsession is healthy. Their songs are in my head too much. When I see them at a live show, I’m already thinking about the next one. I’m like a junkie needing a fix. I think, “my God, what’s wrong with me?” I’m sure other people get sick of hearing me talk about them. (Believe it or not, I do digress. I could go on and on, but I don’t because I realize that evangelizing is no way to win friends.)
(Also, for the record, it should be noted that I’m not alone in my obsessive feelings. Proof here: Avett Problems, here: Avett Bros Addicts, here: Avett Anonymous, and here: 
You get the idea.)
I’ve often wondered what it must have been like to be a Beatles fan in the 1960s, when teenage girls would cry and scream hysterically upon seeing them perform. What band could evoke such a display of public emotion? I now think I understand that feeling. (FYI, I don’t cry and scream hysterically. Well, sometimes I might cry and scream, but definitely not hysterically. I don’t think…)
There are times when I think I might actually worship them. Much like the religious faithful, I appreciate them because I believe in what they stand for. Is it wrong for me to feel this way? My Catholic-school upbringing screams “HEATHEN! FALSE IDOLS! SINNER!” In truth, they’re just people, like you or me. They are flawed. They are just musicians, doing a job. But in their own words, they set out to “break the bad, cheer the sad, and leave behind the world a better way.” They’re artists, and good art—like religion—should inspire.
Okay, so I’m a wife and a mom and have a full-time job and a mortgage, so I’m not going to jump on their tour bus anytime soon. I have my own life to live. You can all breathe a sigh of relief here. There’s where my rational mind takes over and wins.
But I’m an emotional being, and in my basest of instincts, I just deep-down love the way The Avett Brothers’ music makes me feel. They inspire me (and many others) and for that, the world is already a better way.
