Mumford & Sons shot by Todd Owyoung: full posting →

Hooray!

Believe.

(via violettskyes)

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Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

Stomp

HEY!

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Roll Away Your Stone by Mumford & Sons.

I’m just sayin’.

donotdoasidonotdo:

I’m a ha-yooge consumer of music.  I’m a ha-yooge fan of music. But with all my enjoyment of music, not all of it moooooooooves me.  I listen to most of it for a bit, bee-bop with myself in front of the mirror, have a good I-feel-awesome strut down the street and then I move on.

But every once in a great while music makes me feel like I would travel the world to see them.  And I have.

Every once in a great while, I do not consume music, it consumes ME.

U2. Kings of Leon. The Editors. Interpol. Pearl Jam. The Gaslight Anthem. Xavier Rudd. The National.

And Mumford And Sons.

I was so incredibly lucky enough to catch on to these fellas early on and see them at small venues such as Mercury Lounge, Bowery, Webster. 

Last week I saw them two evenings in a row at Terminal 5 and, now that it is over, I am in painful withdrawal.

I laughed. 

I danced. 

I sang. 

I cried at the sight of Marcus’s incredulous face of wonder as they all knelt around King Charles and he gave them Marcus’s “favorite” King Charles song. 

I raised my hands and sang in prayer: I’ll find strength in pain.  And I will change my ways.  I’ll know my name as it’s called again.

Some people go to church, I listen to music.  Some people pray, I turn up the volume.

Truth.  Again.

I’m sorry for the repeat, but I had to reblog this again.  I keep going back to this person’s statements over and over again in my head.  I was there as well and, though I was at the time at a lost for words over the experience at the time, this says exactly what I felt and what I continue to feel.  Music is awesome.  Awesome music is amazing.  Amazing music loves life. 

(via donotdoasidonotdo-deactivated20)

donotdoasidonotdo:

I’m a ha-yooge consumer of music.  I’m a ha-yooge fan of music. But with all my enjoyment of music, not all of it moooooooooves me.  I listen to most of it for a bit, bee-bop with myself in front of the mirror, have a good I-feel-awesome strut down the street and then I move on.

But every once in a great while music makes me feel like I would travel the world to see them.  And I have.

Every once in a great while, I do not consume music, it consumes ME.

U2. Kings of Leon. The Editors. Interpol. Pearl Jam. The Gaslight Anthem. Xavier Rudd. The National.

And Mumford And Sons.

I was so incredibly lucky enough to catch on to these fellas early on and see them at small venues such as Mercury Lounge, Bowery, Webster. 

Last week I saw them two evenings in a row at Terminal 5 and, now that it is over, I am in painful withdrawal.

I laughed. 

I danced. 

I sang. 

I cried at the sight of Marcus’s incredulous face of wonder as they all knelt around King Charles and he gave them Marcus’s “favorite” King Charles song. 

I raised my hands and sang in prayer: I’ll find strength in pain.  And I will change my ways.  I’ll know my name as it’s called again.

Some people go to church, I listen to music.  Some people pray, I turn up the volume.

Truth.

(via donotdoasidonotdo-deactivated20)