First Aid Kit Played Palác Akropolis in Prague, 10/2/14

Sing With Me

Prague has these pubs called tankovna or "tank pubs." The idea, basically, is that they pour beer, unpasteurized, straight from the tank. Each of the major Czech brews -- Pilsner Urquell, Staropramen, Budweiser / Budvar -- has at least one associated tankovna around the city.

I had a free evening on Thursday and was leaving for my flight at 4:30 AM on Friday. In the three nights I'd been in Prague, I really hadn't had too much beer -- cocktails with a great Italian guy named William from Milan on night 1, "team dinner" on night 2 -- so I decided to park myself at U Pinkasů, a Pilsner Urquell tankovna just off of Wenceslas Square, for an early evening.

Like a lot of bar / restaurants in Prague, U Pinkasů is broken into several smaller rooms. I was enjoying my second tankard of beer in the small front bar, contemplating relocating to another room for some sausage / duck / pork and red cabbage (and another beer or two). At just that same time, -- lunchtime here in the Eastern Time Zone -- MomVee typed me a message that made its way across those undersea Atlantic cables. I noticed it as I laboriously scanned Facebook on my horrible little work-provided Windows Phone.

"If you see First Aid Kit tonight, tell them I love them."

I looked at the time. 6:30pm. New plan.

I paid my tab (like $3.50) and headed out to the square to grab a cab. The driver dropped me at Palác Akropolis just before 7pm. The sign on the door said Joe Rose at 7:30, First Aid Kit at 8:30. Plenty of time for some food, and I'd get to bed reasonably early.

Another big beer and a long wait for my sandwich in the Palác Akropolis Restaurant, and I missed Joe Rose. I was inside just after 8pm.

Palác Akropolis looks to have a capacity of about 800. I don't think it was sold out, but it was pretty full. I was able to worm my way right up to the front. The Söderberg sisters and their band took the stage right on schedule at 8:30pm and opened with "Stay Gold," the title track from their latest record.

Now, I had never heard a single note played by First Aid Kit before. Maybe it was the beer. Maybe it was missing my family (It had only been a few days, but I spend a lot of time with those girls.). Maybe it was the fact that I'd spent the last couple of days totally immersed in my job (which regular readers may have gleaned is, well, not my favorite thing). But I was pretty overcome with emotion.

The band's stage setup and light show are what you'd expect from an internationally renowned touring act. Polished and complex. The lights gave my little point and shoot fits in the autofocus department. But the voices of these two Swedish sisters are that whiskey and honey mix of someone like Neko Case. The production is flashing lights and fog machines, but the sound of the doubled voices and pedal steel is swinging lamps and cigarette smoke.

"Take me someplace where there's music and there's laughter," Klara Söderberg sang on "My Silver Lining." Yes, I thought. Yes, indeed.

For "Ghost Town," the drummer and guitarist left the stage. Klara Söderberg unplugged her acoustic, and she and Johanna stepped away from their mics and moved to the front of the stage. They sang the song, totally unplugged and unamplified, to the six or seven hundred people in attendance. Except for the sound of camera shutters, -- from the professional photographer up front and from all the people who have no idea that you can turn off that fake shutter sound on your phone -- the audience was silent. It was cool. I got a little choked up.

It was back to the full band setup for the rest of the show, which included a cover of Bob Dylan's "One More Cup of Coffee." "The Lion's Roar" closed the main set, Johanna tossing her long, blonde hair wildly during the instrumental portions.

To close the show, First Aid Kit played "Emmylou." Eventually, the whole building was singing the chorus which ends with, "I'm not asking much of you. Just sing, little darling, sing with me." Sing along songs, indeed, Scotch LaRock.

At about 10, I made my way outside and decided to forget the cab ride back to the hotel and just take my last -- unassisted by my unhelpful and now dead anyway Windows Phone -- walk through Prague. I made it and lay on my bed thinking about what I would write about the show. I realized what a pushover I am and how much the whole communal experience of going to a show means to me. It had only been about four or five days since I'd heard live music, but I realized how much I was already missing it.

I was just amazed at how much a duo from Sweden, playing songs at a club in the Czech Republic, could make me feel like I was at home.