I've been here before; in fact, the present scene as I exit the auditorium of the Clemens Center is one of eerie familiarity. It is no small thing to be so often within the corona of a burgeoning stardom. The lobby is thronged with the excited masses, mostly young girls but dotted with college-weary faces, parents, and adult versions of the teenage majority.

Sons of Pitches Historic Ithaca's State Theatre Friday, May 14th, 2004 Tickets are on sale now through select area schools, the Clinton House Ticket Office, by phone at 800-28-ITHACA, or online at www.sonsofpitches.com. Don't dawdle! Both of the Sons of Pitches' previous State Theatre concerts sold out!

The excitement is palpable and, while I am far too accustomed to this setting, I can't but feel a bit of it myself. The show was incredible, as it usually is, and front row spectators were anxious to grab what they could from them -- water bottles seem an unusual favorite. Copies of "What You Have It" and "With a P" fly from the hands of the vendors and are immediately unwrapped and primed for the pen. No one knows for sure which door they will soon emerge from, but they know that it will be soon. I can imagine that it feels like forever for the fans -- it certainly seems a while for a brother -- but that expectation ends as abruptly as the wait was long and the Sons of Pitches wade into the energized crowd. It will be some time before I can get a word with any of them, but it will be worth the wait.

My brother always insisted I call him Thomas, and Thomas only, never anything else under pain of, what seemed to me at the time, death or severe bludgeoning. For an eleven-year old, really, they were synonymous. While I know better than to ever anticipate any conceivable manner of abuse from my brother, I still feel awkward and still correct myself when I call him Tommy. Before I came to Ithaca College, the semester before, if memory serves, there was quite a stir in my household: Thomas would drop out of Ithaca's a cappella men's choir, Ithacapella, and join a smaller, more intimate five man group called Sons of Pitches. This was back in the days when Mark was still a member as the stolid and enigmatic bass, but I knew none of the other members besides my brother.

The Sons of Pitches experience has been a bizarre one for me. As soon as I saw them play a packed crowd in Ithaca College's Hockett Family Recital Hall, turning away even the president of the college, I knew that the Sons of Pitches were not going to remain satisfied with mere college popularity; I knew that they would become stars. It was hard to see Mark go for many of us, but as soon as I saw Eric in concert, I made it my quest to convert all of the fellow fans I knew to him, to no small success. Eric brought such energy, such an element of excitement to the group's sound and their between-song banter that it was impossible to resist embracing this new addition. When I saw the group's second tour of Ithaca's historic State Theatre, it became clear: the group, whom I'd always considered to be remarkably good, was simply getting better and better.

I admit that when I first heard "With a P," I thought they still sounded like the campus group they once were; nice enough, but nothing shockingly original. But upon the release of "What You Have It," my mind was forever changed. Not only does it sound more professional, and the harmonies and arrangements are cleaner, but there are original songs that aren't just good -- they're downright amazing. Each original, without exception, shone with something that I was not used to from this group: true brilliance. I knew the concerts would never be the same again. I was right.

The Clemens Center show took my entire family and me by complete surprise. We weren't seeing our brother or son singing with his friends; we were seeing a concert performed by professionals, by stars. Never hesitating to add the crowd into their routine, reacting like a snake charmed to the audience's reception of the songs overflowing with excitement and youth and the joy of music that is so saturated within the five young men, they launched into one song after the other, each one impossibly better than the last. Their performance ability is unquestionable: the songs were not lesser versions of the songs heard on the album, nor were they note-for-note transcriptions of the music. The expertise of the ÔPitches was such that each song was not only remarkably better than heard on the album, it was brought to such a level as to make each song seem not as if I were one in a thousand swaying to and enjoying the music, but that each song was for me and for all of us in the way that only performers of that higher caliber can accomplish.

I realize that this is the draw of the Sons of Pitches for me: they achieve the Holy Grail of performers of popular music, making each audience member feel at the same time that the songs are for everyone and for them alone. This talent only grows with each performance. While they certainly become better musicians and become more in tune with one another with each rehearsal and performance, these are not the secret. With each performance, they can take their ability to personalize the experience higher, getting better at it, doing it quicker, each time. I have not seen them in concert since that CD release for "What You Have It," so I cannot imagine how well they will perform in their upcoming State Theatre performance, but I know for certain that my increasingly higher expectations will not be disappointed. I even imagine that I will be as taken aback as I was at the Clemens Center. I am no longer supporting a brother and his friends that have grown to become like family. I am performing the sacred duties of a true fan, a fan who'll certainly be more of one after the night is over.

Robert Morris is a writing major at Ithaca College who just happens to be an expert on the Sons of Pitches. That his brother's in the group has nothing to do with it. Nope. Not a bit.