It’s impossible to attend a show at the Howard Theatre without taking note of its grandeur. Towering balconies and cushy booths create an orbicular effect that feels both communal and private; each corner of the historic building a sandpit of inescapable intimacy. And I can’t think of more appropriate music to fill the space than that of The Paper Kites.

The night began with The Cactus Blossoms, who didn't need to command attention when they stepped into the already packed house. The brothers quickly lured in stragglers and effortlessly persuaded bar patrons to turn. Nostalgia clouded the room; their aching Everly Brothers-esque vocals laid a wistful foundation for the main act.

Before a full Paper Kites ensemble emerged, lead singer Sam Bentley appeared. Legs casually draped off a stool, mirroring the elaborate curtains behind him. He eased into “Between the Houses” and set a familiarly meditative tone for the evening. Before long the lights swelled into a golden glow, revealing the remaining Kites: Christina Lacy, Sam Rasmussen, David Powys, and Josh Bentley. Joined by supporting artists Chris Panousakis, Hannah Cameron, and Matt Dixon, the impressive eight-piece pulsed into “Till the Flame Turns Blue” then "Hurts So Good."

Once the soothing chords faded, Bentley took a minute to chat. He fondly referred to the prior year's show as if we were all in attendance. I'm sure most were, because the congregation nods knowingly as if it were an annual reunion of close friends. Bentley wittingly pointed out a sign in the front row that insisted on hearing “Nothing More Than That” and obliged much to the delight of the crowd. I checked my setlist, read the same title, and chuckled at the guise. Admittedly, I was just as thrilled to hear it.

As if the set needed to become more soulful, Bentley and Lacy made their way to centerstage. A suddenly dim room with just a spotlight, the two slipped into “For All You Give” while sweethearts sank a little deeper into each other. We breathed the lingering chords of the near-accapellic number while Bentley began picking cheerfully; a septet converged around a single condenser mic. Honey-like harmonies enveloped the room just as tightly.

Sensing that the heavier “June’s Stolen Car” would be too intense after the an incident with a concertgoer, the band materialized with the softer “Without Your Love” before replaying the unfinished song. The crew then barreled into “Black & Thunder'' where David Powys burrowed into a guitar solo that was somehow as soothing as it was electrifying.

Before lilting into “By My Side,” a ballad of abiding love, Bentley falls into his familiar banter, but this time invites the audience to join in the chorus like we weren’t going to sing along anyway. No one needs an explanation, a practice round, or even to be told the song; we’ve been waiting all night. A collective chorus reciprocates the title as Bentley sings, “it’s where I want to be, the only place, forevermore.” Sam Jarousek's stage lights echoed the intensity of the upbeat "Electric Indigo" by sending deep blue streams into the crowd to accompany his intricate ceiling visuals. When their final number subsided, the full house flared with delight. The musicians graciously bowed, waved, and even gave a thumbs up or two. "See you next year: same time, same place" was reciprocated in applause. 

No one was rushed to leave; friends lingered before seeing break down as a cue to head out. Outside, long after the show ended, band members happily chatted with fans. No irritation or inconvenience; they seemed truly grateful to have such devoted supporters, and I thought about how perfect that image represented what the night was all about: conversation. The Paper Kites didn't just share their music with us; they invited us into a conversation that will surely continue.