How Shapeshifters Find Family - a review
On May 24th, I attended an ALO show at Hopmonk in Novato. I wasn’t feeling like myself that morning. I was ruminating on a few recent experiences. I almost wondered if it was a good day for a concert at all. I grabbed some coffee at my time-tested favorite roaster in Marin County, Red Whale Coffee, then took a generous amount of time to fall into the best version of myself, until I felt good about how I could show up on the dancefloor.
Immediately upon arrival I was greeted by the other Shapeshifters, what we call those that hang out on the rail at each ALO show. In this setting, the movement and embodiment of dance becomes something new, something transcendent. Arriving a bit late, there was plenty of room saved for me. The fabric of the ALO community is made of love and good vibes. Each time I turn up for a show, people are eager to connect. “I saw you at the Orinda gig” or “Sarah, this is our 3rd show together” or "I'm excited to take in another set with you”.
The Novato show was beautiful, the setlist heated up throughout the evening, as it should. Zack Gill has this way of gently grazing each key as he plays, Steve Adams chases basslines like they stole his lunch money. Lebo has a singular style of playing. Most players have a guitar-face, Lebo plays guitar with his entire body. You know when you’re hearing a Lebo track. Stalwart drummer Ezra Lipp got deep into the percussive pockets with Steve.
The set started tenderly with “Blank Canvas”, a track off their newest album, Frames, the realistic optimism found in their lyrics shines through from the onset. “Maybe the world isn't broken, it's just trying to get born/and the fault lines and growing pains are ours to explore” The set continued with tracks “Try” and “Maria” from Roses & Clover, released in 2007. I was grateful that “Warmth of the Night,” a love song written by Lebo on the winter solstice, made an appearance. There’s nothing better than stripped down vocals alongside an acoustic. At the end of the first set there was a more jam-forward transition with “Baby Blind Spot”.
The band took a break and re-emerged on stage. The generous second set kicks-off with an older track, “Get To Do It Again”, and a newer one, “Space Between Frames”. The jams on these seemed to keep elongating, and we were there to support it! Deeper into the second set “The Gardener” surfaced from their 2005 debut album, Fly Between Falls. This track is a funky little bass number which proclaims “my message to you is/be true to what grows on you”. I'm sure the psychedelics didn't hurt whatever was growing on us that evening.
They unexpectedly played a few off their 2009 album Man of the World, which was an absolute treat. Especially “Suspended”, which reminds us “We were born to live between tension and release.” As the set grew into its final tracks, “Room for Bloomin’” played, a heartfelt dance jam, and one of my all time favorites. I could pull favorite lyrics from this track, but it would end up detailing the entire song. Do yourself a favor, and listen to it! The setlist winded down with a few relaxed tracks, “Divine Fall” and “Goodnight Song”, from their 2023 album Silver Saturdays.
After the show, I saw Ezra and said “nice set, man!” We caught Lebo and Steve outside the venue. I got to chat with Lebo about his side project with Reed Mathis, a Paul Simon cover band called Bone Diggers. They had just added a gig in June up in Nevada City I was excited about. We discussed June’s venue and how great a songwriter Paul Simon is. I was in a short line of folks looking for autographs. I had to say, “I don't have anything for you to sign, man. But I'd take a hug." "I am always here for hugs,” he said, embracing me with the same post-concert glow I recognized in myself.
Afterwards, a few of us Shapeshifters ended up at In-N-Out, rounding out a very NorCal evening. Later we laughed about the cinematic feeling that governed the night.
I did the math; last year I saw ALO an average of once every 6 weeks. The fact that we are all “repeat offenders” matters, there's a familiarity, a reliance or kinship that we forge as a fanbase. We are all a cog in the big wheel. A part of the continuum. When I enter these spaces, I aim to be a positive force. I want to dance like I know the world could end tomorrow. Like I am with my partner listening to vinyl and dancing in the kitchen, absolutely losing myself.
ALO is hands-down my favorite band now, but it wasn't always that way. I came by them honestly through Jack Johnson’s music. ALO founding member, Zack Gill, is the multi-instrumentalist in Jack’s band. ALO is well-established. Most of the band met growing up in Saratoga, CA and share a loving friendship that feels contagious. Even their newest member, Ezra, who joined the group 7 years back, is well ingrained in their scene by now. I started my ALO career at The Fillmore in 2017, and picked the band up in earnest in 2023. I've seen them about 20 times since. Including a few years at Camp Deep End, a family-and-friends type intimate festival set in the Redwoods.
The more time I spend in this environment, it seems tied to the Bay Area. It's the tradition that Garcia, Weir, Kreutzmann, Lesh, and Hart laid down in these exact same towns. The psychedelic roots that The Grateful Dead pioneered are alive and well through Gill, Lebo, Ezra, Steve, and all of us. There's a symbiotic, palpable connection between the band, their sound, and the crowd.
The nature of each passing moment at gigs deserves a near-religious reverence. We're all tuned into it. In this way, concert halls and amphitheaters become places of healing. A place where family can be found. Falling so deep into a jam band culture was not a turn I was expecting life to take in my late 30’s, but it's been life-changing.
I live over 2,000 miles from where I grew up, on the Southside of Chicago. The neighborhood has a complicated past, and my relationship with where I come from is ever-evolving. Though I get the chance to visit Chicago often, it's important to have this homebase here in California. People who I look forward to seeing, people who make the journey of life substantially lighter. A beautiful, warm reflection of the 12 years I've spent here in the Bay Area.
I volunteer at the local tidepools in San Mateo County, which gives me a similar sense of purpose and belonging. Taking ideas and philosophies of those that came before you, and disseminating that knowledge to others. Walking into such an established community makes me feel like I have something to learn from the folks around me, and also incredibly lucky to be a part of a community of such good people. We share experiences, we share values, we are kindred spirits. It's enlightening to enter a space with so much consideration and a deep upspoken connection. I begin to feel a spiritual, almost ancestral connection to the West Coast.
Sometimes it feels like I am living inside the film Almost Famous, Cameron Crowe’s semi-autobiographical coming-of-age film about a young man who goes on tour with a rock band writing for Rolling Stone. I am reminded of a few lines and images in particular. Rolling Stone Journalist/Rock Critic Lester Bangs has a theory about how “true music chooses you, in your car or alone, apart from the vast, benign lap of America”. Truer words.
I'm often reminded of the quiet reflection in the scene when a carefree Penny Lane, played by Kate Hudson, dances at a venue post-show. She moves alone in the unnamed concert hall to Cat Stevens’ “The Wind”. It’s a beautiful slice of life for those lucky enough to relate. The rare moments of solitude and perspective, the opportunity to thank the mountain. Camp Deep End is similar, taking a long walk in the Redwoods and simply existing, feeling the immense at-oneness. Letting the energy peak and valley, and reflecting in gratitude.
I appreciate the camaraderie shown in Almost Famous. The only other time I've seen concert culture represented correctly is in a film called His Three Daughters. Elizabeth Olson is the butt of the joke as a Deadhead, and eventually she says something like “at the shows, we are all looking out for each other". If you know, you know.
There are simple respects I'm shown at ALO that make other shows feel lesser. People will hold your spot or offer to buy you a drink. People will give you their numbers to keep in touch or say “Hey I saw you at the Petaluma show, we shared such a crazy connection that night”. It means a lot to me in the world we currently live in.
In Almost Famous and modern day, there’s a time of being present to absorb experiences, a time when the tour comes to an end, and a time when we are called to integrate what we’ve learned into our everyday life. Ideally, a powerful experience brings about a new sense of understanding and homeostasis, it provides us with a new lens.
While I do think the culture and space ALO occupies is unique, a privilege of living in NorCal, this kind of passionate fanbase and niche market exists in many pockets.
You see it in fanbases of early rock n’ roll like The Beatles and Jimmy Buffet. It's common in jam-band culture with Grateful Dead, Phish, Umphrees’ McGee, Goose, and in other genres with Prince, Wu-Tang, Taylor Swift, Beyonce, and Geese. Earlier in May, I met someone in line for Kevin Morby who had been to 100 Wilco concerts.
You can find it in art, film, games, and sports. Threads that unite us are everywhere, if you know where to look.
Sarah Carter was raised on the Southside of Chicago and has been living in Northern California since 2014. She earned a BA in Philosophy and practiced Clinical Massage Therapy before pivoting into tech. Her essays explore music appreciation, embodiment, gut health, and citizen science. Her work has been published in Between The Tides, Pink Disco, and redrosethorns.
Currently Reading:
Sea of Cortez by John Steinbeck & Ed Ricketts
On Freedom by Maggie Nelson
The Cancer Journals by Audre Lorde
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