photos by: Tamara Lee previously published: Guttersnipe
I have been warned that the magnetic duo and team that calls themselves YACHT (Young Americans Challenging High Technology) has sort of a cult following. The fans have been known to follow them city to city, brand themselves with the band-logos of happy little triangles and obsess about fave tracks (like Psychic City & The Afterlife). The band barely helps this along, producing 
videos riddled with religious imagery, and portraying themselves obsessively conducting pious rituals. The only saving grace is they might be prefaced with disclaimers stating that in no way does YACHT mean to “endorse a belief in the occult”. And so, although I am a fan of the music, I was slightly apprehensive about what to expect from their show at the Biltmore earlier this month. And the scene proves to be…er, strange indeed.
It starts out like any other show, with a typical ‘underground trendy’ fanbase. When Yacht takes the stage I start to understand what all this fuss is about. Every one of them is magnetic as hell (no pun intended) and the allure is unstoppable. Singer Evans manically runs around the stage, striking gravity defying poses and grabbing front row ‘believers’. They stroke her and smile and cry, with divinity in their eyes. Bechtolt wails away from behind her, savage and passionate on his keyboard or guitar.
As for me, I crawl around the front (mosh?), captivated by the scene and shooting away. At one 
point a crazed fan grabs me from behind and I brace myself, ready for some damage. But instead, he latches on from behind and hugs my back affectionately. Okay, this is a first….but why fight the love? He hangs on for several songs and occasionally attempts to take the picture for me, clearly unable to hide his excitement.
All in all it was a bizarre show. I don’t think I have assumed an endorsement of the occult either, but am happy as hell to have such a time.