Green Tee Readings

When I wrote this, I’d intended on editing it later. I’ve now decided not to bother, except to add names and links where appropriate. Y’alls get to deal with some mixed metaphors, although hopefully I don’t have any within the same sentence.

This might be the most singularly unhelpful concert review in the history of the genre, but I’m at a coffee shop at Clark and Belmont (yes, I dared) and the next train home isn’t for hours. The opening band, The Acorn, did a nice job, and any band that brings two mandolins (I thought they were ukulele’s, but Joey Burns claimed they were mandolins) on stage instantly earns bonus points. Of the six musicians on stage three were interesting to watch: the lead singer, lead guitarist and the drummer with the smaller kit. It’s too bad the only one of them I could get a good view of was the singer, as his playing parts were the least demanding. The drummer was the epitome of “more with less” and he had a wonderful sense of where and how sounds came from his kit. His hits were a lot more fluid and fun than those of his counterpart. The lead guitarist might have been overshadowed in a more accomplished band (this sounds a bit backhanded, I know. It’s not meant that way), at least until he he kept his guitar on and slung a mandolin over the top of it and played both during the song. Awesome. When their set was over, I leaned over to Laura, pointed at those three and said “they’d make a great trio.” If they’re on eMusic (they are!), I’ll probably check them out (I did!) to see if in the studio they make more use of dual percussionists (dueling ones, perhaps?). They were good, but needed more layers or complexity to their compositions to make six people on stage useful.

Going into the show all I knew of Calexico was that “Two Silver Trees” pretty good (thanks to KEXP’s song of the day podcast) and that a person I think is pretty great, and not just in musical taste, thinks they’re pretty darn super keen. Wowsers. And stuff. As the band set up their own gear, Laura named them and ran down what instruments they’d be playing. She was a little excited.

This is where I become spectacularly useless (I know, I know), because while the show ended a bit over an hour ago (no longer true!), my lack of band knowledge gives me nothing to build remembrance on. Normally, I don’t have this much trouble with new acts I like. I remember a lot from the first time I saw Andrew Bird, The Dears, or Devotchka and none of them are particularly simple, musically. Calexico, I think, moved a little more with theirs, and I’m a different audience member than I was for the other three.

I’ll expand on the second of those first. When Ryan and I saw The Dears, I was blown away, but looking back on it I was listening to their music as a whole construct (well, except for the keyboardist that reminded me of the girl I had a crush on at the time). They were heavy, bombastic, theatrical and very focused in their presentation of sound, not limited, but aware of making one thing sonically. Devotchka, too, had a very singular focus and their surprises were in choices of instruments, not arrangements. And Andrew Bird, however complex his arrangements, was only one guy with a loop machine. It’s loads of fun watching him build sounds into songs, but you’re aware of each layer as he puts it down.

The change that drives my listening is in how aware and interested I am in each individual musicians addition to the whole, and the techniques, where I can follow them, used. I’m not just watching the attitudes of the players as I’m adrift on the sound waves, I’m watching fingers move along frets and strings, noting the drummer’s technique and generally trying to anticipate what might be coming. With Calexico tonight, I spent some time in all the sound, but I was mostly chasing eddies to see how they’d formed, where they’d go, when they’d submerge and then return. I could spend so much time just trying to remember textures; I certainly spent enough saying “oooh! I like that sound.” A fer instance: I love pedal steel, but often ti’s too loud in the mix or used over much. Tonight, it was uniformly great because of the diversity of the sounds and volumes coming from it. It wasn’t just one sad, long sound sliding up and down the scale, it was loud and soft, smooth and rough. It always had a place, but that place changed in each song. I love the pedal steel a little more, now.

The entire show was like that. Parts changed, instruments changed, focus changed, language changed. I couldn’t keep up with it all, but I kept trying. It was engrossing, and I paid scant attention to the lyrics. And so I’m left with little threads that I followed well, that I’ll not be able to weave together into a whole cloth. I’m fine with that. Eventually I’ll tie the threads to something else and they’ll dangle, colorful, elusive, delightful.

1 Comment »