High expectations can often be harmful to your concert experience (they should put that warning on the ticket), loading you up with images of an epic performance in a perfect little club by someone you've not yet seen (and most of your friends have never heard of). It's disappointing to set the bar so high, then find that he/she/they are mere mortals- good, but, well,
just good (I'm looking at you, The Duke & The King).
Then again, sometimes you hesitate to declare an experience 'the best' until the adrenaline rush eases and a perspective is reached. None needed here. Justin Townes Earle at the Iron Horse Music Hall last night- best show of the year so far!
Son of the legendary Steve Earle, JTE has been on my radar for awhile. G-Man saw him open for
Dan Auerbach and raved about him. I bought
Harlem River Blues and loved it. Various YouTube clips whetted my appetite for seeing him live. Articles about him noted he has struggled with many of the same demons as his famous father. Hold on, I know what you're going to say, that I have an affinity for talented, tortured singers, who eventually let me down by destroying themselves. I'm hoping not.
None of our friends want anything to do with this venture, so The Reet and I deftly pick our way through the Hartford rush hour traffic I91 north to Northampton, arriving about six for the 7 o'clock show. We are seated upstairs at a table for four along the front rail, paired up with a Northampton area couple who originally hailed from CT. They attend shows at the Iron Horse often, but came tonight without knowing much about JTE; heard very good things about him, knew of his pedigree and thought they'd check him out.
Shovels & Rope open. I know- WTF is that? It's Cary Ann Hearst and Michael Trent, a young South Carolina married couple, each of whom is a literal one-man band (well, Cary Ann isn't a man, but you know what I mean), sometimes playing drums, harmonica, tambourine, cymbals and singing, while the OTHER played guitar! Quirky, but with substance. Very entertaining, playing for about forty-five minutes. Intermission.
I accompany The Reet down two flights to the basement bathrooms (hey, Justin- passing us on his way up from the basement dressing rooms), where I leave her in the LONG line to the two unisex bathrooms and go back up to wait by the bar in the back of the main level (hey, Justin- passing me as he goes back down to the dressing room). Justin is going for the hip-geek look tonight, dressed in jeans, loafers, no socks, very tight plaid jacket with blue button-down shirt and skinny tie. I'm taken by how skinny he is!
Finally, around eight, JTE comes on stage with an acoustic guitar, flanked by two gals, a cute redhead on fiddle and a sassy looking brunette on standup bass. Earle greets us with some self-deprecating humor that just heightens that underlying feeling of angst for him, then gets to it. My fears of
just good vanish. He's great. He can play and sing anything. Blues. Folk. Swing. Gospel. The fiddler is wonderful and you've GOT to love a chick who can slap around a standup bass! He introduces
One More Night in Brooklyn, telling of living in a shithole section of the borough some years ago. Some of his songs are painfully beautiful to hear. He acknowledges his demons ("I apologize for missing the radio interview today, but I'm a bit fragile when not consuming vast amounts of alcohol. I promise to make up for it."), but is pretty upbeat, all things considered (Well, THAT was depressing, let's try this!"). A call out from the crowd for
Wanderin'; he smiles, but does something else, then comes back to the request a few songs later, laughing. Great guitar picker! The harmonies are wonderful. A couple times, he sends his bandmates off stage for a rest while he does some solo. A new album is to be recorded in October, he says, before giving us one of his new songs. Near the end, he brings out
Shovels & Rope for the chorus to
Harlem River Blues. Great! (I've envisioned a very large gospel choir singing grandly, "Lord, I'm going uptown, to the Harlem River to drown, muddy water gonna cover me over, and I'm not gonna make a sound." Think about it.) A two-song encore,
Midnight at the Movies is especially good. Prolonged ovation. Perfect night, JTE!
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| He went for the hip-geek look tonight |
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| Pre-show view from our balcony seats |
It begins with an excellent rendition of "Thirty Second Lover" featuring Winwood, but, fine as it is, it's a teaser for what's to come. LaVette and Willie Jones tear up "Don't Be Ashamed." On "Dedicated to the One I Love," Williams literally sends shivers up and down the spine as she uses her gauzy, slow, emotive voice to wrench every ounce of emotion from the verses -- with Penn adding another dimension to them on the bridge. Speaking of Penn, an excellent but reluctant lead singer, his reading of "Someone Made You for Me" is one of the most unexpectedly endearing performances on the set. McClinton's "Right Around the Corner" puts these rhythm & blues in the heart of honky tonk country. The back-to-back readings of "Messin' Up" by Jones and "Say It" by LaVette come close to stealing the show -- but Williams still holds on with the title track and her searingly naked "When I Get Like This" as the closer. Cropper also takes a couple of economical but stinging instrumental breaks on "Help Me Somebody" and "Think" that reveal the depth of Pauling's genius as well as his own. Given what a mixed bag tribute albums usually are, Dedicated is not only a surprise for its consistency, but a shining example of what they can -- and should -- be. (complete review)
