Shea: Sondre Lerche inspires middle school crush

When I was 8, my mom took my best friend and me to an ‘N Sync concert. We had lawn… When I was 8, my mom took my best friend and me to an ‘N Sync concert. We had lawn seats, and while we waited for the band to come on, I sat on the grass and said, “I’m not going to scream, I’m not going to scream, I’m not going to scream.”

Well about a half an hour later, ‘N Sync came on. I screamed. It was awesome.

I had a pretty similar experience Saturday night when I went to the Southside’s Club Café to see Norwegian singer and songwriter Sondre Lerche.

Sure, I wasn’t screaming and jumping up and down for J.T., (Club Café is far too small for that) but I did stand there with my friend giggling and grinning like a lovesick puppy.

Sondre Lerche is officially the ‘N Sync of my 20s.

At first, I was kind of embarrassed to admit it. I’m probably getting a bit too old for this kind of reaction to a musician. I should probably be spending my time building a portfolio or doing something grown-up like that — not geeking out over how dreamy and cute some mellow indie musician is.

Outside of my schoolgirl crush and infatuation with the fact that he has the sexiest hands ever, it was a great show. He stood alone onstage with his big blue guitar and wooed the entire audience with his fantastic playing, smooth and lovely voice and humble apologies for Saturday being his first appearance onstage in Pittsburgh in six years.

I wasn’t the only one with a total crush, either. Some guy in the back yelled, “Can I have your number?” Despite his perfect English, Sondre grinned and pretended not to know the translation. I guess he was holding out for me. Or, errr … maybe his wife. I suppose I should admit he was wearing a wedding ring.

In either case, it’s good to know that my tastes have evolved from an off-the-wall mad scientist skit — to get crowds psyched up for poppy radio hits — to drinking rum and coke in an intimate Southside club watching a truly talented performer sing.

On the other hand, it’s also nice to think I don’t have to say “Bye, Bye, Bye” to my 8-year-old self quite yet.