On Friday August 6th, a small quintet of Angeleno musicians finds their way through the Griffith Park brush to the center of The World of Birds stage at the Los Angeles Zoo. The air is heavy with the chatter of their neighboring mammals and an ageless crowd gathers as the five approach in calm and gallant pace and the feral stir of The Lonely Wild begins…
For most of us this is a brief retreat from the city; an oasis stumbled upon at the center of a concrete basin. And perhaps the very same thing could be said of The Lonely Wild themselves as their tone pulls from old spaghetti-western flare and their lyrics often clamor out in proclamation of journey for journey’s-sake and for our old wild and forlorn lives that sometimes find themselves restricted by self-constructed cages.
While most of us spend tireless hours searching for music to help us pass time in our commutes, to guide us through our bad times and through our great ones, The Lonely Wild is capable of serving us with something so much more: an intermission. An intermission from our search for purpose and grandeur, an escape from our heavily tracked vehicle timecards as we traverse from one side of the city to the other, an escape from all that we search to have in our lives so that we may dance and play loudly and ferociously in the moment. The sound encourages us to howl at the raw intonation of our souls and recall the nostalgic feel of the unexplored so that we may move on, ready for the adventure that begs us to turn from the roads we are on and into the brush of the uncharted days to come.
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