a regal evening

Hailing from Bergen, Norway, Erlend Øye (who also fronts the aptly named band The Whitest Boy Alive) and Eirik Glambek Bøe address the world in hushed musical tones as the Kings of Convenience. If overdriven guitars and blood-curdling screams comprise heavy metal, then this duo's intricate acoustic guitar interchanges and soft, harmonious vocals are the finest silk. They rarely play live, so in desperation I managed to procure 2 tickets to their sell-out show in Copenhagen Tuesday night.

Naturally, I asked an attractive girl if she wanted the extra ticket I "just so happened" to have, but she politely declined and promptly fled the country. I wish I was kidding. All I can figure is the poor thing must really, really hate the band if she's willing to forego a date with me just to avoid listening to them. Tragic, really. Instead, the affair became a bromantic night out. I arrived at Vega late to meet my friend in a calculated effort to skip the opener, whom I'd never heard of and cared nothing about. When I arrived, I was blown away at the veritable sea of bicycles loitering about in the parking lot awaiting their owners. Transportation is indeed done a little differently here.
My entrance into the concert hall was soulcrushing. I'd forgotten that every inhabitant of this city is genetically flawless. I was a squat American tumbleweed in an orchard of Danish oaks. Nevertheless, I found a petite viewing window standing behind a couple where I could intermittently glimpse the stage between their make-out sessions.

But the music. Oh, the music. You could practically see the sound waves emanating from the stage and wafting mellifluously from ear to ear. People didn't dance, they didn't cheer, they sometimes clapped. But mostly, they just listened. Recognizing the subued nature of their material, Erland and Eirik counterbalanced the mood perfectly with upbeat attitudes and candid crowd interaction that included a few funny moments. Of course, they spoke Norwegian the whole time so I understood not a damn word, but people laughed so I assume what was said was funny.
After a double-encore grand finale, they bid farewell and concluded the set. I typically rave about concerts, but this was honestly one of the best I've seen. There weren't the yellow balloons and confetti whirlwinds of Coldplay, the pyrotechnics and poodlesque hairdos of Trans-Siberian Orchestra, but the show gained from what it lacked. That night, KOC maintained the minimilistic mantra affirmed in their lyrics: "you and me alone...sheer simplicity."