On Stage

Second Stage

Friday

If Future Islands’ songs once seemed like invitations to witness scenes from someone else’s
life, People Who Aren’t There Anymore presents the whole absorbing saga, transmuting hurt to
hope in the triumph of this band’s career. Here is excitement, devastation, understanding, and
the dawn’s rays of redemption in 44 minutes—a record that, at last, commits the full rapture of
Future Islands to tape.

From their start, Future Islands have been singular and instantly identifiable. Samuel T.
Herring’s life-worn croons and cries backlit by Gerrit Welmers’ melodies and charged by the
rhythms of William Cashion and Michael Lowry. That premise hasn’t changed on People Who
Aren’t There Anymore, but the people have. There’s a pain and a joy that’s in Herring’s voice
that’s only been rivaled by their legendary live performances, but never captured in their studio
albums, that feels like it’s been untethered for the first time.

Future Islands have played nearly 1,500 shows – shows that have bruised bodies, frayed vocal
cords, provided escapes for audiences, and healed their messengers. People Who Aren’t There
Anymore is a major work from a band at an inflection point: they’re discovering new ways to
experience the world, because the old ways weren’t working. That freedom has led to the most
fully realized, most transparently honest statement in their 17 years as a band.