Beat Alley

Palpable and vibrating energy floated, swelling to the throb of the beats. An electronic pulse, contagious and intoxicating, spread from human to human. This vibe emanated from everyone involuntarily, an exhalation drawn painless and automatic from each body, a magnetic compulsion. The stimulus was electro-pop band Breathe Carolina and the response was massive.

This band is far more than a couple of singers and a supporting cast of musicians; it symbiotically swallows everyone within audible range and within feeling of the pulsating drum and bass combination to become an enormous amalgamation of beings with arms raised and feet bouncing, a dancing beast with an insatiable appetite for song upon song. This crowd does not merely enjoy this band, they adore them.

The Summit Music Hall in downtown Denver on August 26th was the final stop of the Scream It Like You Mean It tour for this duo and their supporting musicians; they traveled North America this summer and released their latest album Hell Is What You Make It on July 12th. Kyle Even and David Schmitt form the core that creatively and energetically nurture the existing force that is Breathe Carolina’s live presence.

Directly in front of the stage, behind the photographer’s aisle, there was a turbulent ocean of heads and hands entirely filling the main floor. Stairways flank this area and rise in toward the middle of the room reaching a square landing then turn as they ascend to the balcony. These stairs, the adjoining landings, and the entire balcony railing were lined with eager onlookers, jittering with anticipation. The artificial smoke machines belched bluish clouds and bubbles bobbed lazily over the throng that didn’t even budge when the last opening band finished. The lights extinguished in a blink and a thunderous din rattled the walls of the music hall.

From the opening beats the crowd surged and reacted to Breathe Carolina’s presence and vigor. A banner sporting the open eyeball design from the new album cover stared into the crowd with a green laser beam that skewered the smoke, both real and manufactured. A guitar player, DJ, and drummer blasted the celebrating crowd with electronic party rock beats forged with distorted and computerized sounds that lifted people from the floor in a bouncing and ceaseless dance. David, affectionately called D by Kyle, brought a guitar on stage and played it for the first few songs while utilizing his lilting voice that comfortably thrives in the stratosphere. Kyle graced the crowd with harmony and backup vocals in certain places, but his major contribution and appeal exists in the hardcore styled screams that he adds as emphasizing phrases, lines, and occasionally, entire verses. Serenading and screaming paired with an intense, churning guitar style and the relentless bass and drumming construct a sound that is simultaneously unique and enjoyable.

The guitar ditched to a stage hand, David bounced on his toes to the cadence of the songs while Kyle stood above the smoke on a monitor, chopping his free hand in and out in rhythmic kung fu to his growled lyrics. David wore an American flag tank top that brandished his tattoo sleeved arms, while Kyle sported a large grey tee shirt with only a letter C drawn to resemble a branch. Different styles of clothing and vocals, but together on the same musical path. They devoured one another’s liveliness, slingshot elasticity from one line to the next, first song to the last.

A weightless freefall, the musical intensity built and hair stood on end, adrenaline surged as the gut exploding beat dropped into the building, a meteor shattering the serenity of still water. The music tugged and released the spectators, a puppeteer in the rafters guiding them into a pounding frenzy then deliberately heaving them into a flowing groove. D shouted over echoes and noise building layer upon exciting layer, “On three, onetwothree!” He rushed the count as the crowd erupted into movement, not needing to be told when to go off like an explosion.

They ended the standard set with the new single Blackout, and the crowd shouted every word. The energy level that was already extreme elevated to a level that was previously untouched as the bouncing and jumping turned into bounding and leaping. It is a fun song that encourages the listener to surge with the beat and enjoy the catharsis that revelry and carousing allows. Instantly, a chant of “one more song” was raised when the final beat faded away. The band hadn’t even left the stage and the friends and family that had joined them during Blackout took up the mantra.

“I say fuck that, we’re playing two more songs!” A massive, clamoring yell filled the room as the band’s very first single Diamonds was launched with an emotion laden announcement. They were extremely grateful to the fans and it was portrayed in their performance, they didn’t simply pour themselves into these last few songs, they dumped every ounce and scrap of themselves into that encore. It was clear that this was a special show for them.

When the final song was finished and the house lights burned, the crowd buzzed as they crammed to the back of the floor toward the exit. The relatively cool air of the downtown streets was a relief to the sweat soaked, stuffy smell, the result of an active concert audience, and the echoes of the event thrived in their minds. Ears ringing, people singing, a shared experience already a memory.

MikeyKorpse – September, 2011