My early dates in the Denver dating scene were spent pretending away my faith in these situations, as though it were an automatic strike against me. I talked up food. I waxed eloquent on writing. I extolled the virtues my favorite authors.
But nothing about faith. Or church. Or religion. It was too risky.
Siblings can seem like a blessing or a curse. Growing up with two older sisters, I had both. I idolized them, and while not always understanding gender, wanted to be like them. I reveled in the times when they would paint my nails or let me play with their dolls. But sometimes I loathed them for mocking or playing tricks on me.
The April 5 show at the Boulder Theater was no exception. Tlast night’s show at the Boulder Theater was no exception. The audience was pinned to the floor by these rock mini-symphonies, being pushed and pulled by the weight of the band’s reverb and heavy distortion, coming close to the head-crushing level of sonic power of My Bloody Valentine, then dipping down into beautiful, delicate instrumentation reminiscent of Sigur Ros.






