Acknowledging discovery is a way of feeding pride. We post links, talk up free movies and downloaded albums, recommend restaurants. One of my proudest moments is seeing Band of Horses when they were mere Horses opening for Iron & Wine at The Bluebird. Katie and I muscled up front close enough to actually converse with the musicians on stage and ended up being very impressed by a band we knew nothing about while waiting for the main act. Katie asked for a set list from whomever plays the slide guitar (That’s research!) in the band by pointing at a sheet of paper at his boots and shrugging her shoulders. He laughed and smiled, “If I give this to you, I won’t know [the key or chords or some other musical thing I can't remember].” I bought their EP from the merchandise table and have followed them ever since.

So I’m largely the reason Band of Horses are still able to play music today. Kind of.

With even more enthusiasm I endorse Heypenny for Gospel Most Worth Spreading. Sure, everyone who reads this likely already know what’s up, and my enjoyment of their music is nearly a given because of some friendly history: The drummer trained me as a projectionist at the cinemas and I now owe him a great deal of gratitude for putting me in a position to know a good chunk of my favorite people.

But I had seen them at Bonnaroo and come away impressed, and on a Saturday when I thought I needed to forget a few things, having a night where I could dance as gracelessly as I wanted—I mean to say having a night where a lot of those same people would all be under the same roof without a marriage or funeral to commemorate felt a little like my version of a room at the top of the world, or, um, the South side of Evansville.

Really, anything—any band anyway—that can get me unabashedly waving my ring finger in the air while yelling as loud as I can along to Beyonce—if you like me enough claim me—can’t be remembered as anything other than joyous liberation. We came, we drank, we danced, and then most importantly we all got home safe with a few memories or at least some photographs.

Also, no one threw up in my car.