On the Black Sand

Sometime in '07 I discovered Rilo Kiley. At that time, I used to read the Boston Globe cover to cover five days a week, and the record review of Under the Blacklight must've really piqued my interest 'cause I went out and bought that album and proceeded to listen to the shit out of it for months. And saw them perform. And it was awesome.

Fast forward to last week. Jenny Lewis was at the renovated Avalon over by Fenway, now the House of Blues (with attendant bathroom attendants). Her solo stuff is more countrified, more rock-a-billy-ized, but her devastating songwriting remains. The new renovations and chainization are a just a shade on the tacky side, but the stage has been opened up and widened, and the dance floor's been replaced with a really nice schall (sic?) or something. Everything was in place.

A bunch of Lewis' bandmates opened the show with a low key set of really wide ranging stuff. The bassist had glasses the size of a pocket dictionary. They were huge and square. Their set was a foot tapper. As my friend said, they grew on me.

Deer Tick, now, was just exo-super-awesome. They've got this whole alt-country thing going on with just a sprig of southern rock in there. I said a softer edged Drive-By Truckers. The review in the Globe went with a straight comparison to 'Uncle Tupelo-era Jay Farrar' (why he would exclude Jeff Tweedy I don't know). Either way it kind of works. Also, the lead singer did a solo song with a harmonica rack. A harmonica rack! That, to me, qualifies every time as awesome. And closed with La Bamba. And did this really killer cover of John Cougar's Authority Song.

But Lewis. So talented. Such a good band she's got with her. What pipes that woman has. What a voice. It's like some kind of doppel-angel with those lyrics. Not really, but sort of. The show was also really well paced, with a quiet moment here with Lewis alone on guitar, a frenetic moment there what with that See Fernando opener.
I feel so comfortable with her music in movement (probably because I've livingroom danced to all her albums an uncountable number of times). There were a few moments, like Jack Killed Ma and the ending drum duet, when I was transcending myself, when my self was becoming lost in the movement of the music. Needless to say, I danced my ass off. It was an intensity to be sure.

And as a postscript mental note: I know that dancing and drinking don't mix. Why must I consume large quantities of beer before doing my wildman thing? It hurts really bad the next day now that I'm older. I mean really bad. Aching bones and hangovers all at the same time are really crappy. Take note of this for future reference (we'll see how that goes).