Back in March, I declared, through Radio Exile’s Feature of the Month, 7 Musicians Who Need a Hug, that I wanted to give Charlie Fink from Noah in the Whale [Official Site, MySpace] a hug.

This is my “Little Engine that Could” story.

Ahh, Noah – call it love at first listen. I can’t get enough of them. I even went as far as to extend my four day holiday with my friends in London (much to my friends’ dismay), to bop around solo for an additional four days, just so I could catch their “Club Silencio” tour at Shepherd’s Bush Empire. Smitten, to say the least.

The London show was epic. But I had a feeling that I wouldn’t get to meet Charlie after the gig – I didn’t know the secret handshake or other tricks of the british trade that would get me behind scenes so I could give him a nice big American smoosh. Plus, there were a thousand british girls shreiking “i loooove yooouuu!” at Charlie and blowing air kisses in his direction the entire night. These sexed up brittie chicks were going to attack poor Fink like a bad Axe Body Spray advert. My hug wasn’t going to happen. Not in this land.

I waited.

When I returned stateside, I really wanted to see them again (Tom Hobden is so smiley and absolutely amazing on the fiddle). I bought tickets to their show at The Paradise in Boston. It was another fantastic performance by them (I can’t wait to get my paws on their new music), and it couldn’t have taken place at a better venue to help my squishing ambitions.

One of the (many) great things about The Paradise is you can lag behind after the performance, and, so long as you’re not belligerent, security doesn’t much mind. Also, most bands come out into the hallway afterwards, if you’re willing to wait. I had a good feeling.

“I–think–I–can, I–think–I–can.”

After ten minutes or so, the guys came out and hung out around the merch table. They were super personable, signing autographs on promo posters and chatting with the fifteen or so lingering fans, despite security really wanting to wrap things up. Charlie was the last one to come out, I’m assuming, to give the rest of the band a chance to get their accolades without the “lead singer” presence – a class act.

I wanted to tell him about the whole Radio Exile hugging thing, but I unexpectedly became starstuck by his blazer and melancholly smile. My composure took a raincheck (insert swoon and idiot grin here). So, in my fuzzy state, I girlishly asked if he’d mind a picture. He was a little under the weather, so a full-on hug in these swine-flu times wasn’t going to happen.

Regardless…

Mission accomplished. And it was fun, fun, fun…

Last 5 posts by Holly L. Perry

• Make Love, Not War - The (Subjective) Bedroom Mixtape - January 18th, 2010
• Yo Gabba Gabba - Music Is Awesome Review - December 9th, 2009
• Go Stuff Yourself - The Thanksgiving Mixtape - November 26th, 2009
• Noah and the Whale - The First Days of Spring Review - November 6th, 2009
• Volcano Choir - Unmap Review - October 15th, 2009