Watchhouse at the Denver Botanic Gardens

This was the summer I watched Girls, read Just Kids by Patti Smith, and saw Watchhouse live. If that doesn’t scream transformative, I don’t know what will. On July 26th, my friend (boyfriend by the end of the night) and I left the brutal thunderstorms that roll in every afternoon in the Springs as we entered Denver. Going to a concert for a date is a big test in my mind. It’s like meeting the family; it could go horribly or be amazing. I’m saying this because I was NERVOUS. The next couple of hours could make or break our relationship, and I just wanted to enjoy some good music.

Since I was the one planning this endeavor, we arrived right before Watchhouse began. A mistake since the venue was like a tin of sardines. We started to lap around looking for patches we could squeeze into when we were stopped and whispers of “they are coming” began. Emily Frantz appeared before me, wearing her silky white dress over chartreuse pants, with Andrew Marlin on her heels. They turned down a narrow path on the lawn just an arm’s reach from the audience on their sides. The lawn was covered with picnic blankets and lawn chairs, so the rest of us type B attendees overflowed into the surrounding botanical gardens. Our blanket was surrounded by the vibrant summer annuals and resilient perennials thriving from the downpour that just missed us.

I can’t claim to be a lifelong fan of Watchhouse, but I am a fan regardless. Just two months ago, my friend Amelia introduced me to their music. Amelia and I worked on a field research crew together this summer. We were studying owls, so naturally we became nocturnal. We’d leave the field around 1 am each night and drive an hour back to our lodge. These late-night drives were practically sacred to us. The car we drove was too old to play music from, so we took turns connecting to the JBL speaker, and on this night it was Amelia’s turn to be on aux. She played some songs I recognized, and then I heard “Take This Heart of Gold” for the very first time. It was the kind of song we’d sit in the car, waiting for it to finish, because ending it prematurely felt wrong. Watchhouse started taking over our night drives after that.

We were confident our time on the lawn would come once it got closer to the toddler attendees’ bedtimes, so we took the time to walk the gardens while listening to the music as it began. All the nerves I previously had instantly lifted. Something incredibly special about this show was how mesmerized the audience was. Everyone watched and sang along, jaws dropped, with no distractions except to pour the occasional glass of wine or take off their shoes. Once we secured a spot on the lawn, I pulled my cowboy boots off and joined the primarily barefoot crowd as well. 

When they played “The Wolves” from Tides of a Teardrop, they repeated the line “Everything’s so great, it can’t get better” over and over. What a beautiful and false statement. It was definitely easy to feel that way at the concert, but it’s a silly belief when you realize the band singing that line has only done better and better over time. How lucky we were in that moment to have evidence of the falseness. 

I’ve never known Watchhouse as anything other than Watchhouse, and I can’t really imagine them going by anything else. The name comes from a secluded hunting cabin on the Chesapeake Bay where band member Andrew Marlin spent time as a teenager. The cabin lacked electricity and electronics, but clearly had much else to offer. As they continued through their setlist, it was as if the audience was invited into that same “watchhouse” with the band. I felt pushed to reflect on every significant event that has happened to me, and I can’t read minds, but it felt like we (the audience) were all experiencing this very raw revisit into our memories together. Watchhouse was creating its very own watchhouse in the gardens. 

My favorite performance was of “Firelight” from their newest album Rituals. It was towards the end of the night, and as they began, they came together in a line shoulder to shoulder, swaying throughout the song. Marlin and Frantz sang to each other, themselves, and the audience. They created a bubble that encompassed the venue. Like if someone saw us from the outside, they’d feel like they were third-wheeling, but once they entered, they’d feel welcome. An exclusive, but inclusive kind of bubble. The stage sat in the middle with a grass lawn ascending up from it. Not only was the band side by side, but the whole audience was, and gravity was pulling us all in together. Watchhouse had the audience in a trance, and I’ve never seen anything like it.

Anyways, it was a great date, and I’m not saying you will have a partner by the end of the night, but if you want to witness the power of live music, go see Watchhouse live. Thank you, Watchhouse, for inviting us into your watchhouse. It’s beautiful. And thank you for reading.