Justin Townes Earle sings Randy Newman’s “Louisiana 1927” a capella in Birmingham Sunday night.
This is the second show I’ve attended where someone couldn’t get their instrument tuned and so sang a song a capella. (The first here.) Both times it has been for the better. I don’t mind the trend.
Justin Townes Earle was unspeakably good at WorkPlay. He was grieving over some things, and I think that made the quality of his performance unrepeatable. His stories and his voice were sincere. I’d say he wowed his old fans and simply floored the new ones.
My, that is some beard. Futurebirds play “Ski Chalet.”
We heard these guys play with The Dexateens at Schubas a while back. At that show, I was pretty convinced their bassist was a guy I went to high school with (Trippe Sproull for MB readers) but alas, he is just another skinny dude. Generally, they were a great surprise, super entertaining, and I feel stupid that I forgot to bring them up until now. Obviously their Southern rock and long hair thing is right up my alley.
Yeah, this show was a great time even though most people were wiped from a hot P4k weekend.
Local Natives were way better at Lincoln Hall that night than at P4k that day, but who isn’t better at Lincoln Hall? Taylor Rice should try to protect his forehead from the mic more often (see 4:24). But the crowd sure loved the energy he was bringing. (He’s a nice dude, too.)
Here’s another great take-away show from the Natives:
Let me tell you about the male vocal harmonies from Ha Ha Tonka.
If it weren’t totally blasphemy, I would almost say that they are better than The Avett Brothers. Almost. 4 parts of resonant hotness. Pipes, serious pipes.
They sang this a cappella and filled up the room at Lincoln Hall and I highly recommend you seeing them live at your earliest convenience.
In the sea of hipster irony that is created by the attendees of a festival put on by Pitchfork, the acts that were free of irony ruled the weekend.
Specifically, Robyn. Pure pop. No additives. Air-humping. My first act of the weekend and possibly still my overall favorite. She played almost every song off her current album (which is awesome), sweated her butt off, engaged the crowd, talked in an awesome Swedish accent, and managed to translate her act perfectly to the festival atmosphere. WIN.
And it rocked. No wonder I like them so much— they channel Tom Petty. Also, here is Titus Andronicus raving about Free Energy on their blog and explaining why you should also love Free Energy. They will be on tour together this fall. (!) ATL anyone?
I am proud to tell Travis that Titus Andronicus rocked my face off.
Failing to out-bro only Surfer Blood, the crowd at Titus was awesome and hilarious and really good at screaming stuff like “It’s still us against them” and the F word. Solid.
John Butler Trio “I’d Do Anything (Soldier’s Lament)” at the Riviera on Friday.
It was a really satisfying show, which was nice because I have been waiting a while to see these guys play. I went with a big group, we were kinda late, and we couldn’t see for much of it— but it was still good, which lets you know that it was really, really good. It was so blazing hot that it felt like the people around me (and me, I won’t lie) had jumped in a pool before showing up to the Riv.
The later the show went, the better it got. Toward the end, they played the best song off the new album, “Close To You” and it got dirty. They did a whole lot of call-and-repeat audience participation stuff. Then, John told us if we downloaded the album illegally, the karma police (or something) were going to kill our pets.And then they came back for that encore, and it was probably the most energetic encore I’ve ever seen. The fans made it that way— they were serious.
We finally made it up where we could see for the encore, when the boys played “Funky Tonight” and “One Way Road” and did an insane three-person drum solo that was entertaining to say the least.
Only drawbacks: they didn’t play “Betterman” and the Good Doctor Wright was too busy doctorin’ to come to the show.
Revelation: John is a little guy, but he sounded amazing live— everyone I was with thought so. I’d call it a success.
Saw these guys Friday at the new Beauty Bar in West Town, which was a gloriously good time. I mean, Clayton Hauck was there, so clearly it was very cutting-edge and kewl. But, more importantly, it was just raucous, carefree fun.
Note on Beauty Bar: Despite being a primarily hipsterish locale, the cover on a Friday night, with a couple of great DJs and an indie band playing, was only $5. But yes, you do see the dreaded PBR tall boy in this photo. You will pretty much have to drink one there.
Also, they do actually give manis and pedis at the bar, so if it smells likes nail polish when you walk in, don’t assume you’re in the wrong place.
The guys played on the floor, so it really did feel like a house party. A loud, sparkly, sweaty, 21-&-up house party.
So this band, Miniature Tigers, had some different members in it when I saw them at Lincoln Hall a few weeks ago. But I liked ‘em. I’ve been digging their first album and will probably like their upcoming sophomore, too. They are danceable and eclectic, and often a song starts in one genre and ends in another, which is kinda fun.
Plus, the drumming and vocals were awesome at the show, the bassist was the most typical dopey white guy bassist that you can imagine and he played a rain stick, and the lead singer had a Dharma Initiative sticker on his guitar which you can kind of see in this video.
There’s another LOST shout out in this song— listen for the lyrics, “Like Nikki and P, you could bury me alive.” Now, that line is really tripping up people on lyrics websites (Mickey and Piu? Nope). Gotta love a Nikki and Paulo reference. As much as I love Rodrigo Santoro (helloooo), that’s easily the stupidest thing that has ever happened on LOST. Season 3… woof.
Back to the band. You can see the line-up I saw in the following video, with a new guitarist/drummer guy, the long-haired lead singer wearing the same sweater I saw him in, and a close up of the Dharma logo.
Maybe not groundbreaking, but it was good tunes for a Monday night. Plus, it has given me and Mase a reason to yell TELL IT TO THE VOLCANO! at each other.
So, yes, this will be the final-for-a-while Avett Brother post, given they don’t release any new music or do anything super cool anytime soon. (I give it a week.)
Regarding the show, how do I convince you that it was better than an average concert? Or that it was so phenomenally good because these guys are talented and gracious and all around stage an amazing show, and not just because I am the uberfan?
I can tell you that the floor was shaking so hard that it felt like it was going to cave in. Let you know about how the crowd and band were so incredibly kind to one another. Say how the show almost felt like a collaboration between us and them. How their voices sounded purer in person, a break from the pattern these days. And how they broke several instruments in their mission to entertain.
The band had their thumb to the pulse of the crowd and gave us, ultimately, everything we asked for when it was the time to give it. Boot-stomping rock that would make the neighbors’ yard die, harmonies that would make your mother (and once, really did make my mother) cry. They even closed with a request, impromptu and beautiful.
I’m gushing, I realize. But here’s the truth of the matter— whether you are, like me, predisposed to love everything these guys play because you are already a fan, or whether you are simply interested in good songwriting, technical excellence, hard work onstage, or the human emotional experience, you would have enjoyed this. The authenticity of what The Avett Brothers do is undeniable.
Here’s some of what we saw: Seth sums up what I was feeling and what I told my roommate was happening to me hours before the concert— face pained from smiling, so happy it hurts. He sings what is, to be fair, one of my least favorite songs of this band. He tries to get that low E string in tune, and can’t.
This video cuts out, but moments later, he goes a capella and finishes the song unaccompanied, and says “Well, that was a first.” And predictably, it was better than it would have been with the guitar. Flaws and instrumental failures made the night all the better, and watching the guys work through the problems happily and still succeed in doing something gorgeous was and is gush-worthy. If I do say so myself.
Here’s some of the a capella bit.
That’s enough on these fellows now. My enthusiasm about them alone, all other arguments failing, should encourage you to give them a listen.
You should really cover this song by Dawes when you play Chicago’s House of Blues on Sunday. I know, it’s short notice, I know. But I think you could get really punk, yelly and awesomely harmonic on this song. I’ll be there, and I’ll cheer real loud.
-Punk.
-Yelly.
-Awesomely harmonic.
Plus, it would rule with a banjo. And I know you guys like a song with some kickdrum.
Look at those handsome jerks (Dawes). They are trying to upstage you with harmonies! And unbuttoned shirts! Don’t let it go down like that.
(Uhhh…Yeah. So, I’m so excited about The Avett Brothers show on Sunday that I am having delusions that I can communicate with them, and that, when I communicate with them, they will learn and play songs that I want to hear.
But that’s okay, because despite my craziness, I am glad that I can still get really, really little kid-style excited about the small things in life. Like shows!)
