All Around My Head: My Nostalgia & the Glass Animals show at Daily's Place

Their show at Daily's Place was unforgettable.

Starting with a full 6:19 opening of the show:

When I bought a ticket to see Sofia Isella and Glass Animals’ show, it was pretty last-minute, and I was focused on seeing Isella. I left still an Isella fan, just also a Glass Animals fan.

My friend, L, had mentioned getting into them earlier this year, but I passed it over because I was wrongly focusing my judgment on the idea that they were more of a TikTok sound than a band¹. But I do have a music history with L going back to around 2009, and she mentioned she was listening to Glass Animals on a day at Disney Springs. I’m surprised I didn’t follow up immediately.

Hyperactive Ghost is my engagement with sanity—it’s free for now while I beta-test the rebrand. After years of nothing going to plan, this phase is about getting creative with survival in the face of a plethora of mini-deaths in my life.

When I reached out months later to ask if she was going to either of their shows, she said she’d already committed to the one at Daily’s Place, which is my favorite Florida venue, and there was a seat right behind her. It would feel like a trip to a past that exists only in my synapses.

It’s a lot for me right now, though, as most of my life is just in my head right now. Live music has this way of allowing me to experience the “ping” moments in my head while keeping me tethered to something like reality. It’s a perfect way to get in and out of your head at once. And this show is one for the books because, by the end of the night, the band’s response was this amazing feeling of being sucked-up into their childhood dreams.

But this isn’t just any old moment in my life; it’s a deeply nostalgic moment for me. I’ve learned so much about myself, my friends, and family, and the way my past shaped me for more than just a difficult life. And now? Nothing looks like anything I could’ve planned. I wouldn’t change that now.

Past and Present Participle

Pullin’ down backstreets, deep in your head / Slippin’ through dreamland like a tourist / That first friend you had, that worst thing you said / That perfect moment, all on Memorex /

All around your head…all around your head…

When my brain hits crazy mode, purchasing a ticket to a concert ends the spinning wheel of death. I spent 7 months of my life in crazy mode, where I couldn’t make decisions lest I make the grave mistake a future historian maps and measures.

Eureka! She fucked up right HERE. That ego death was avoidable.

But…I’ve had the strangest feeling over the last 2 months, like I’m on the edge of a body of water with a voice beckoning me, but I’m confused. Is that my voice, or is it a siren? Maybe my subconscious has hidden that I am the siren. But “I felt called to this concert” is a bit much.

If you’re new to my stuff, you won’t know that I have a day-of pattern for shows. I sit at the vanity; the sequence initiates.

When I sat down last Tuesday, I was exfoliant-serum-moisturizer- deep in my face prep when it hit me how much I liked what I was hearing. Since it’s also an L-recommended band, I started thinking about when she and I saw Phoenix for their Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix tour. That day in 2010, we checked the lyrics in the car and laughed at what we got wrong. We were still young. And now, I live in the town where my nostalgia resides.

To be clear, I’m not comparing Glass Animals to Phoenix in sound, but in that feeling L and I chased—breaking free of old mindsets. I’m there again now, trying to do better, choose better. And maybe that’s why this hit.

There’s an L-vortex in my brain: airy, nerdy, and rich with instrumentation. My automated system plays “Love Like a Sunset” every day the sun goes down. Phoenix in 2010 held that kind of promise. If I’m late to the GA boat, at least I got in.

In the car to Jacksonville, I pulled myself out of the wistful memory and chose to listen to “Dreamland” start to finish; I wanted to redefine the band by recontextualizing “Heat Waves.” It’s an intentional method to remove any prior judgment.

The first song triggered this feeling of nostalgia and beauty in what I’ve lost. So, the opposite of the purpose.

I am Gen X. My generation is thick in the moment of nostalgia, like every generation before. We get to 50 and turn around to see that the road behind is longer than what remains. With its nostalgia-loaded references, “Dreamland” triggered the wonderment I feel at my past—it’s bittersweet and confusing. But the volume of this reminds you that this is not your encore, yet.

Is this all I was given? THAT was my major mistake, wasn’t it?

I moved back to my hometown in 2022, left for Tennessee off and on, and returned—again—in 2024. I’d sworn I’d never come back. For decades, I barely even visited. This place is known for serial killers and Spring Break nightmares…but more than that, my trauma never left this town.

It’s the sound of wistful memory. You’ll feel this way when you’re 50.

I started keeping track of this as a joke in 2024.

You’ve had too much of the digital love / you want everything live, you want things you can touch

Yeah, I do. I really do. This entire Substack is about the live music experience and, low-key, it’s possibly the way to redeem ourselves from AI captivity. In a time of unrest, disillusionment, and a trash job market, where we can move home or play house with someone we can’t stand.

I’ll be DAMNED if I’m gonna accept a short-term misery in which I can’t even save money for a longterm solution. If you have the option of camping in your old bedroom, take it. Save money to get back on your feet, and find the right partner in your own time.

*looks down* OH DEAR, I’m on a soapbox.

So, in the car…I just started wiping tears off my face. My breakdowns are all annotated by concert tickets. So miss me with the whole “it’s a luxury” thing—I don’t even make my own dopamine, OKAY? I queued up the first track on Dreamland again, like maybe starting over could fix something².

Everything is over, it seems, including my profession, and it’s got me in yet another nostalgia, the 27 years of my life in higher education.

Why is my profession ending? Ma’am, we are in Florida right now. Exhaustion ends things when you cannot.

Nothing about my last decade has been what most people would call normal, but honestly, that path started back in 1998, when I decided more people needed to know about the things I was reading. That push wasn’t mine alone, but I was part of it. And if you look at the layers of my expertise, you’ll see my signature eventually.

Hi to the new folks—quick intro: I’m an early Americanist and early Modernist with a focus on critical theory and 13 years in rhetoric and writing studies. Started as a poet, been a full-time lecturer for over a decade, and I’ve worked nearly every lane in the English discipline.

I was part of the push to expose the real U.S. history—and how boredom is used to keep people in the dark. If there’s nothing but Dutch hats, they think you won’t look.

Higher ed is about to change dramatically. After the DeSantis disasters and the house bills, my university’s future is uncertain, but I won’t be a part of it. I’m too tired, anyway.

It’s the loudest nightmare ever right now. You can keep your quiet desperation; I like mine loud on the way to less of it.

I listened to the whole set the same way I’d already listened to it 50 times—catching specific words and phrases that I knew would stick with me. I laughed at the Space Ghost references and replayed “Tokyo Drifting” just to hit that moment at the end of Denzel’s verse, where the beat dropkicks you for a second—but you get right back up shouting, “AGAIN! AGAIN!” We’re all still kids at heart.

It’s an hour and a half drive, so I had uninterrupted time with this album, but not enough to remember every reference, of course.

By the time I rolled up to Daily’s Place, I felt like I’d experienced a level of fandom it normally takes years to accomplish, which might not be entirely wrong because my levels of fandom aren’t exactly normal.

So, I sat in my car outside Daily’s Place looking things up. OH BOY was I embarrassed when I read that these guys are the real deal with this vibe. They’ve won awards. They’ve gone platinum. Singles chart. Brit Awards. Oh, dear. Maybe I shouldn’t tell anyone this part? I’m doing authenticity right now.

I flinched…ZOINKS!

My eyes were like saucers at how beautiful it all looked. The visuals emphasized how Glass Animals uses lighting and imagery to keep that nostalgic feeling alive. When the band came on, I was glad I wasn’t right up front; being a bit farther back let me take in the full stage and watch the crowd reacting to it.

Everything kicked into gear, and I was in a video game cutscene.

Or in a commercial break on Nickelodeon back in the day, before we knew how that station ruined lives.

Like I was watching something like Tron in my living room in the 1980s while gulping a generic Capri-Sun between complaints that we don’t have cable TV.

Like I was sketching plans to wreck my skin with apricot seed face wash and Noxema.

Like I was cracking jokes about “Brak’s Tales of Suspense” with my best friend I met at age 5³.

They powered up and dropped into “Life Itself,” which, at least for me, was the perfect way to start the show. It’s catchy and energetic, but not as intense or aggressive as something like “Tokyo Drifting.”

Interestingly, the lyrics to this song are a bit of a point of debate among fans online. There’s ongoing discussion about whether the line is “cut back down to my knees” or “come back down to my knees”—a difference that makes a difference.

I can’t exactly ask the band from my seat in obscurity, CAN I?

As far as the opening, I really was more trying to gauge my attention because it was all just so aesthetically pleasing between the spacey lighting sets and the neon colors that became a major part of the show later when they played “Creatures in Heaven.”

Yeah, about that.

Outside-In: The Pineapple Thing

I think a piece like this one is an opportunity to hear what a fandom is like from an outside perspective—mimesis is our raison d’être at this point, so the moments of connection matter a great deal.

When you don’t know what it means, is it quirky or deep….or a pineapple? OH, it’s def a pineapple.

I was so happy when the gates opened because I knew I had no idea what this tour was about, so I grabbed my seat so as not to miss Sofia Isella. I was sad because I’d need to be up close and personal to experience her performance at full power.

I made it into the gates and sat down, but L missed part of Isella’s set, and I had a moment to chat with her about the sound. I could see that there was a set, of course, but without the lights, I really couldn’t see what that would be like.

From the moment I walked through the gates, I saw pineapples everywhere—on T-shirts, stickers, you name it. So I was curious and decided to wait it out and see what it was all about without "cheating." I didn’t ask anyone; I just let the experience unfold, thinking it might be some kind of deeper reference.

If you're mad that I didn't look up the tour ahead of time… tell me you're not a show gremlin without telling me you're not a show gremlin.

The song I had in mind when L showed up at our seats was the one I was trying to explain—the whole Phoenix thing. But I couldn't get it out, because just then, the sun dipped below the horizon and their lights came up.

Little Squares of Paper

At some point, someone handed me a little paper square with a dolphin on it. It was dark with really bright lights punctuating the dark so that I couldn’t read the words. The guy handed one to L, too, so I knew it was going to matter at SOME point. I also had NO idea which song was “Creatures in Heaven” until the song started.

I saw everyone placing the square over the flashlight functions on their phones, and when they were all lifted, the realization hit me in my chest. It’s like the way we all started using the Zippo app at shows in 2010-ish.

They made little colored lights all across the amphitheater, varied in color, and it was just so pretty. “Creatures in Heaven” is a sad song to me; I already felt that when I stepped into the amphitheater that day, and I’d heard it, like, three times, and that’s it.

It’s so pretty. But….the thing about Florida amphitheaters is that the good ones have a cover with room for the breeze to come through.

Daily’s Place takes aspects of an arena, but for a smaller audience. What you can’t see in my photos and videos is that above my head were 3 levels of seats as part of the bend. If you’re on stage, you’re gonna feel surrounded. And if we’re losing our minds about it, that love is unmistakable.

The Gooey Moment

I’m sure there’s more meaning to the moment when Bayley came out into the audience and started doing “Gooey,” but it seemed to be a sweet moment between him and someone in the audience. He seemed to have chosen that person, but I can’t know that.

I couldn’t very well see that from 2 sections away, could I? No.

It was an exciting moment, though, because I LOVE THAT SHIT, man. I love it when a band comes out into the audience and I’ve had some stellar moments with this at smaller shows, too.

The Encore From 203

Because I didn’t know which song was what, the Tokyo Drifting choice was a lil lost on me until we got to that unmistakable drop I mentioned, but live it punches you in the chest because it’s louder, the lights are bright, and everyone is waiting for that second

At that point, the ticket price was already worth it. That memory—etched with light, sound, and feeling—is something I can replay whenever I need it. Way more lasting than anything else I could’ve spent it on… besides, like, food or shelter. But I literally told you I moved back home.

Dave Bayley looked kinda shocked, but also moved by our reaction. There was this mix of surprise and awe in him, like he didn’t expect this kind of love. He kept glancing up at the balconies where people were losing it—fans who had waited for this moment. It was powerful.

Was he surprised? I thought so, but I couldn’t tell from my seat in 203, could I?

I turned to L at that point and said, “That looked like fulfilled childhood dreams right there!” I dunno of she agreed; people were still losing their minds enough to make me wish I’d been more careful with my Loops! I felt so satisfied as we left that night because I felt like I’d found my new obsession for my lil road trips to live shows.

I’ve been listening to them ever since—so much so that I bumped this write-up to my Monday feature when it outgrew the short post I’d planned. Next time they tour, I’m hoping I can grab a pit ticket.

I’m sending a little brainwave out to the Glass Animals guys from my quiet corner of the world—just to say I needed that dopamine hit, I’m an exhausted teacher in Florida who needed something else to think about, so…thank you for making music like this.

For the fans: if you were at the Jacksonville show, I hope you’ll start some conversations about it. That night deserves to be remembered.

Signed,

Doctor BeepBoop (the Hyperactive Ghost)

1. Ouch, right? I got a lot of bands to check out on the regular, y’all!

2. This isn’t just about Dreamland, is it?

3. DUN DUN DUUUUUN