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Pigeon Pit’s folk-punk music is the sound of defiance, of living as one’s truest authentic self no matter how messy and heartbreaking that can sometimes be. It’s the sound of a band of young people from Olympia playing right to the edge of their musical abilities and occasionally tipping over in the process.
Throughout their extended set at the Mission Theater this past Sunday, frontperson Lomes Oleander played fast and loose with tempo, strumming their acoustic guitar just ahead of the rest of the band. In a lovely run of solo tunes they played midset, rushing their way through the opening chords to get to the heart of the song. And as Oleander started singing, the words and images poured out in a torrent, as if wanting to get every last thought and emotion out before the walls finally closed in. It all lent a charge to the evening that fired the mass of young people at the foot of the stage into a cozy, spirited frenzy of jostling limbs and hips.
Pigeon Pit is also the model of community, and not only in the manner in which the six musicians onstage comported themselves, with lots of loving physical contact, playful glances and gentle ribbing. Through Oleander’s songs, a generation of trans youth have found a reflection of their own precarious journey. That’s why so many of them were packed into the Mission Theater, shouting along with every line and finding strength in the manic tumbling of the music. Seeing these kids embrace, mosh, tear up and make out as the world outside wants to snuff out their existence lifted my spirits immeasurably and gave me the push I needed to continue to fight on their behalf.