The Bassline of Summer | Chicago, IL

Moving to the bassline of summer.

It’s true what they say about summer in Chicago and how everything comes to life—the sun lending the streets and skyscrapers a breath of fresh air. You couldn’t deny it, every inch of the city was in motion. The Loop was bustling, while the riverfront surged with boats and people. Rooftop bars reverberated with clinking glasses and you could never quite escape the smell of deep dish pizza. It was a community coming together to celebrate the last of the warm months, and they wouldn’t waste a second of it.

“The Loop was bustling, while the riverfront surged with boats and people. Rooftop bars reverberated with clinking glasses and you could never quite escape the smell of deep dish pizza.”

Keeping us in tune with everyone else, our weekend took off to the sounds of Chelsea Cutler, evolved into long overdue reunions, and came to a close on Sunday when Lollapalooza pulled us in, along with a tribe of the musically inclined.

The festival had taken over the city like it does every year, and it was made clear that this is part of what makes summer so special here.

Maybe it was the way the lights cast themselves over the crowd—synesthesia—as we hopped from stage to stage and set to set, losing our voices (at least I know I did) in the process. Or, maybe it was the mutual understanding after the final show—the one where our feet were a sore, worn down reminder of our favorite songs pouring through the speakers minutes earlier.

Whatever it was, the crescent moon hanging quietly above the skyline was in on the secret, so we walked on toward the avenues with the bass still coursing through us—the final farewell to our time in Chi.

“Maybe it was the way the lights cast themselves over the crowd—synesthesia—as we hopped from stage to stage and set to set, losing our voices (at least I know I did) in process.”