Despite the frigid temperatures assaulting us outside, it was more than warm enough inside by the time the opening act, J. Roddy Walston and the Business, kicked the night off. They were all hairy energy, and sweaty, stanky-ass rock 'n' roll that made me think of the good ol' days of rock in which I never took part. I didn't so much mind their music, and they had the crowd getting rowdy enough, but they weren't the kind of sounds I wanted to hear tonight. Too bouncy and excitable. None of their songs were of the variety that would grab my ears by the collars and tell them they'd better listen. Besides, watching the sweaty rock 'staches and the dirty rock hair flinging was making me long for a hot shower after the third song.
After J. Roddy got done scuzzing up the stage, William Elliot Whitmore got right down to it. This was the moment I hope for in every concert I attend, when someone I have never heard before takes the stage and quite simply steamrolls over me with raw talent. Whitmore had the undivided attention of the entire audience for the better part of an hour, using his laid back, friendly swagger and songs that told stories almost as well as early Johnny Cash greats to have us eating out of his hand by the time he was done. His blues and folksy playing stretched through the haze of cigarette smoke and soothed my ears quite nicely after J. Roddy's influence on them.
THE moment of the night came when Murder By Death stepped up to take us home. I was immensely excited by then. Three years ago or more, MBD was the ring in the nose of my musical interests that began leading me away from dark, breakdown strewn pastures of my late teens and into the green-lit meadows of what the rest of the world listened to. I have them to thank for my enormous love of music today, and the expansion of my horizons that got the ball rolling. I must say, they did not disappoint. Playing a healthy mix of songs both new and old, they kept the energy up for a full hour and twenty minute set. Most of the songs were culled from Who Will Survive... and their latest effort, Red of Tooth and Claw. Singles from In Bocca Al Lupo had us all moving, and an early tune or two from Like the Exorcist... were especially interesting to hear, as it is not an album I've ever listened to all that much. The stage presence was incredible. Adam Turla has an unbelievably deep and manly drawl that is completely set off by his slim, side-burned appearance. In between shots of liquor, he reined the audience in with his offhand charm and tough talkin' sense of humor. The rest of the band pushed the music along powerfully, with bassist Matt Armstrong fueling his heavy headbobbing musicianship with his own personal pitcher of beer, and at least four cigarettes that he sucked down during some of the songs. Sarah Balliet rocked harder on the cello than I could have imagined possible, powering right along with every heavy twang and moving to the beat of the drums. And, I can't NOT say it, she looked amazing. How she looks that good after being on the road for a month with a bunch of gross dudes is beyond me, but she pulls it off. It was almost distracting.
After a lengthy encore, I left with the stink of humanity, smoke, and beer on me like a second skin, but I left happy, thanks to Murder By Death, and at least one killer opening act.
No comments:
Post a Comment