It’s been a while since I got to photograph a band that I am enamored of and I had forgotten how thrilling it could be. I don’t even know how to write this review– I just want to squeal.

Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros are a band consisting of 10-ish members (they seem to float in and out) led by the charismatic Alex Ebert. Their hugely successful song ‘Home,’ off their first and only album, has granted them the adoration of music fans everywhere, including the masses that swarmed a sold out Webster Hall on Thursday, July 22.

I got there early and was able to hang for a glass of Jameson, neat because they didn’t have any mixers and that’s how I like it anyway. Alex talked on the phone with his dad about Fela Kuti while Nico ate a lobster roll and a porchetta sandwich (he couldn’t decide between them, later lamented the combination may have been a bad decision).

Nora, who resembles a character from the Little House on the Prarie with her long blond locks, vintage pinafore and soft demeanor, pinned back her hair in preparation for the show.

The other members came in and out in an entirely unorganized fashion and I wondered if I could sneak into their bus and just sort of, ya know, become part of the crew. Nora told me that being on tour was kind of like being at camp. They travel in a big bus and sleep in bunks and ‘everyone tries in their own way to be respectful,’ she said. She said humans are her favorite animals, which is good considering that she has to share a small space with so many and bassist Airin couldn’t pick. He said he liked them all.

I only hung out with them for maybe 20 minutes but I had gotten so comfortable that I forgot what an amazing band they were until the show started. I was so shocked when Alex jumped off stage and stood their singing, inches from me, that I could hardly take a good picture. The entire band bounced and happily played their instruments and sang backup, but it was Alex who commanded the crowd. He kind of looks like Jesus and his ability to catch and hold attention only helps bolster his messianic persona. I mean, I’d definitely follow him if he said he could take me to the Promised Land.

Then they played that one song that everyone loves (“Home”) and features the vocals of the demure Jade Castrinos and all hell broke loose as kids with ‘x’ on their hands swarmed the stage. Alex and the other band members exchanged surprised glances, smiling from ear to ear, and kept playing that happy love ballad.

He didn’t even make them get off the stage when the song was over. Instead, he jumped back down into the crowd and asked everyone to please sit while they finished the set. And just like that- the entire audience of Webster Hall sat down around him on that beer stained floor, listening intently to his wail.

With this much success after only one album, I’m a bit worried for Sharpe and his Zeros. I hope they can maintain their unique sound and artistry on their future endeavors. With all the plaid shorts and scantily clad seventeen year-olds shakin’ it on stage, it felt more like a Girl Talk show and nobody wants to go to those anymore. But Ebert and the band seemed thankful and gave out more hugs than many will give in a year that night. Can’t hate on that kind of love.

Words and Photos by Courtney Dudley