Lord Huron @ The TLA.

Text and images by Grace Dickinson.

One of the best parts of a live show is its ability to transform you into another world. Likely each member of the audience exits to a different state. But, it’s a world, nonetheless, outside of all that junk filling up your head.

On Saturday night, Lord Huron came to the TLA to take Philly out of its bitter February plight. Touring for their first full-length album, the five-piece group sold out the venue, filling the space tight with people and their thick winter jackets.

The crowd experienced something far from the reality of the brutal winter. Cue fireside music echoing through a summertime field. Fireflies flickering, bottle caps popping. Rolling hills drifting into the background.

No, none of this actually happened – minus the hills. Those came as foggy mountains painted on backdrops that hung from the ceiling. However, as an endless summer dreamer, that’s the world Lord Huron’s show brought to my Saturday night. [Now cue three paragraphs of self-centered music journalism. Sike!]

There, of course, was a ton more plugged in energy than the picture described above. But their folksiness and percussion-heavy set, along with lead singer Ben Schneider’s charming fedora, all brought the vision of a balmy July night in your best friend’s backyard. Or maybe they just resembled the kind of band you’d dream of playing at your backyard gathering. They have the chemistry of longtime friends strumming guitar and banging around a tambourine. Then the harmonica gets casually pulled out and everyone really starts to listen in. In “Time to Run,” Schneider sings of going to “find me a life, baby, out west.” If I hadn’t read beforehand of their origins in LA, however, I’d have stereotyped them from Nashville or somewhere down South.

The majority of the tracks on Lonesome Dreams were performed, and a three-song encore finished up the show. No matter what world you entered throughout the night, it was clear Lord Huron brought to the stage a ton of contagious enthusiasm for everyone. Dancing sent Schneider’s fedora continuously to the ground, and later, drummer Mark Berry sent his sticks flying into the crowd.

“You guys are the best,” Schneider said on his way out.

“No, you’re the best! You’re the best,” an audience member yelled back, before once again returning to the cold Philly air.