The air was thick and heavy, and sweat-soaked shirts were flying off to reveal the sweat-soaked torsos underneath. The music threatened to tear down the cozy little Davis house along with the very fabric of the universe itself…

Being the cynical, jaded, self-absorbed music connoisseur that I am – a truly abhorrent personality further exacerbated by the fact that I cover the local music scene of a great, big, cool city like San Francisco – I never thought an incredible show could occur in some small, largely rural college town like Davis, CA.  Maybe a good show and a cheap way to spend a Wednesday evening, but nothing more.

I love being wrong sometimes.

Seattle-based indie rockers Kithkin thankfully shattered all my preconceptions and prejudices of the night.  Their hypnotic, almost tribal-like rhythms coupled with gargantuan everybody-sing-along choruses and a jubilant sense of energy that puts most bands to shame, totally floored me.  Self-described as “tree punk” (not to be confused with the Black Lips’ “flower punk”), they represented everything great about local music, about the intimate settings that turns concerts into families, about the sense of community forged amidst a bunch of complete strangers, about the feeling you get halfway through the show that humanity is, after all, about togetherness, and sometimes all it takes is a little music to realize it.