I know I’m not the main character but I always like to think of myself as a new Hollywood movie star freshly out of the package. What I mean is that I am an actress in my own world, and I’m currently in my first production: an indie coming-of-age movie where a small town girl takes on the big city and figures out the real truths of adulthood. Cheesy but true.
And I’m sure Wombo can relate. Wombo, a trio consisting of Sydney Chadwick, Cameron Lowe, and Joel Taylor, is also dealing with the ways of a big city. Hailing from Louisville, Kentucky, their stomping grounds are only an hour and a half away from where I grew up. And through these origins of the rust belt and the city known for its delectable bourbon, Wombo has created the town’s sound, with its angsty droning guitars and industrial sounds.
But, before I start my bildungsroman, the show began with the electric Jimmy Whispers. Jimmy whisked us all into his world as he shouted his blunt lyricism at us. His flamboyant performance, where he stood on top of objects and ran into the crowd, had me glued to him. I particularly enjoyed his visuals, a TV screen projecting a human (doing jumping jacks possibly?) and a dog running around. The visuals aided his music with its on the dot and seemingly random pictures, as he’d chant about the anxiety of potentially raising a child in this day and age or how true love is freedom.
I settle back down into the sea of people as my friend and I talk about what just happened. And it isn’t long before three individuals appear from the crowd and onto the stage, setting up the stage. Wombo is finally here.
“Walking around the neighborhood / admiring yards / feeling sick”
I am in my hometown, wishing I could be anywhere but here. The everyday, same old same old as I go through the motions of living. As I walk around, see these familiar faces, I realize I cannot exist here anymore, I am not made for this life anymore, and it makes me sick. The opposite of homesickness, I am sick in the ways that I shouldn’t be, I shouldn’t be here anymore. It’s true, this town isn’t big enough for the both of us, so I’ll leave.
“On a winding road you come to meet yourself again / never growing old, you only gain experience / another time around”
One of the more fast-paced songs, “Backflip” gives an edge to Wombo’s set. The song features intricate drumming as the bass bounces back and forth, creating a rhythmic tune. The song is like the climax of the movie, giving way to an existential crisis. “Another time around and around and around,” Sydney sings as we fall into this rabbit hole together.
“On a wire cross way up above a building / And when I come down, I’ll be a different person”
The zigzagging of the guitar whips me back and forth. Sydney sings about not being anything and performing for everyone but one. The song, which reminds me of Queens of the Stone Age, almost makes me feel as if I am running to God knows where but away from something. I relate as I tap my foot up and down, thinking about how I’ve become someone else. It’s a metamorphosis: turning inside out from apathy to something concrete.
The set ends and my final scene closes. The warmth of the crowd starts to chill as they disperse from the scene. As my friend and I venture back home, we rave about what we just saw and heard. Wombo has become the soundtrack to my college self and I couldn’t be more happier about it.
