By Amanda Knox

Hells, yes. This was my response to being offered the opportunity to cover Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ appearance at Easy Street Records to inaugurate the release of their new album, This Unruly Mess I’ve Made.

It was my chance to meet some personal superstars. First of all, Matt Vaughan, owner of Easy Street Records. was born and raised a West Seattleite, and Easy Street was my musical ground zero. The album release party was a chance for me to finally put a face to the facility where I was introduced to most of my musical influences and acquired all my CDs growing up. Furthermore, I owed Matt a hug. When I first came home from Italy, I was abstractly aware that people knew about my case and supported me, but one of the ways it really hit home was when I laid eyes on the message posted to the Easy Street Records sign board: “Welcome Home, Amanda!”

Second of all, Macklemore and Ryan Lewis. I’m a fan girl of every talented and diligent artist, fascinated by the artistic process and product that is as unique as the artist himself. On top of that, I’d rocked out to the Heist anthem “Can’t Hold Us” and amen-ed to the message of “Same Love.” There was a period when, at family BBQs, my stepdad would queue up “Thrift Shop” and call out, “Amanda, it’s your song!” I felt I could relate to Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ energy, conscious content, quirky aesthetic, Pacific Northwest flavor.

In this way, I was very similar to the decidedly young fan base who began showing up two hours before Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ scheduled arrival to pick up the new album and buy coordinating merchandise. Easy Street was decked out with giant posters of the album cover and the artists’ portraits, and the new album on a loop and blasting. Where the older fans were probably lining up outside Neumos on Capitol Hill for the free show later on in the evening, these fans were between 10 and 16 years old, accompanied by their parents, many sporting the Macklemore haircut.

I cosied up to a cluster. “What do you like about Macklemore and Ryan Lewis? What do you want to say to him when you get a chance to meet him?”

Nate Wuethrich, 15, “I want to tell him about my music. I’m a rapper and he’s an inspiration to me.”

Justin Murphy, 12, “I like that he raps about his life.”

Grace Fletcher, 16, and Riley Hill, 15, “We’re here to get the CD signed for a friend. But we like them a lot too. They’re good songs to sing aloud on the bus, because everyone knows the words.”

By the time Macklemore and Ryan Lewis arrived, the store was packed. Cell phones bobbed above people’s heads to capture the moment. Macklemore pulled out his own phone and Snapchatted the cheering crowd. Afterwards, when the corralled line for signatures started its slow ascent upstairs, a gaggle retreated into a corner to pull up Macklemore’s feed, to see if they had made it into the few seconds of video.

I wasn’t sure how to carry out my journalistic duties. I’d never attended an album release and signing party. I was allowed to observe as fan after fan approached Macklemore and Ryan Lewis’ table for a signature and photo op. Here was an uncommon moment: the encounter of fan to artist, artist to fan, a flash of a connection from opposite sides of the creation and consumption of a work of art. As I watched fans faces lighting up, I imagined Macklemore and Ryan must feel like the bride and groom at a wedding reception, except all your guests are strangers. I respected their necessarily fluctuating energy levels—hello! smile! pose! relax…—and was charmed to witness flashes of their friendship-partnership dynamic, like when they turned and starting lipsynching their own lyrics to each other. I bobbed my head along to the beat (Ryan’s beats!) and stretched out my spirit fingers in time to “Downtown!”

Finally, the line extinguished and the superstars rose from the table. I wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to meet them myself until Ryan approached, wearing a wide smile and extending his hand. “Ryan. It’s nice to meet you.” Macklemore and his softer smile was soon to follow. “Ben, nice to meet you. Congrats on coming home.”

I gummed up. I managed a weak, “Congrats. Good luck on your tour!” and kicked myself for my shyness. I could have told them about how “And We Danced” was the most popular song at the Valentine’s Dance Party at my bookstore. I could have recommended that they listen to the Alexander Hamilton soundtrack, the latest musical thing to blow my mind. I should have asked them what they would like to say to Seattle. Instead, I lightheaded by fandom.

Fortunately, Macklemore and Ryan were professionals. Before taking off for the Neumos show, they leaned over the balcony and addressed the crowd gathered below. “Thank you, everyone! It feels amazing to be supported by your hometown! We love you, West Seattle!”