23/08/2009
“A Whole Lot Better” — Brendan Benson on Friday’s Letterman
I always take pause when I go see a show at the Blind Pig — even when I lived down the street from it and not 50 miles away, I’d usually ask myself if I really wanted to go. If it’s a show worth seeing, it’s typically very, very crowded and it can be very uncomfortable.
But not knowing if I’d get a chance to see a solo Brendan Benson again for a long time (I think it’s been almost 4 years since I saw him last) I rolled the dice and went.
It was, in short, an excellent decision.
A cool night in 60’s, the Pig was stuffed, but not stuffy or as it often is in August, stifling. The PA mains looked to be pretty new, and the sound was a lot better than my memory had led me to anticipate. Last but not least, it was an 18+ show, so there was a mix of the young college age kids who were bouncing around like crazy (luckily a good 20 feet from me), the late 20’s to 30+ crowd that like myself saw Brendan a whole bunch of times in a whole bunch of configurations in the Lapalco to Alternative Love days and like every Ann Arbor show ever, a number of people in their 40’s and 50’s (maybe some of Brendan’s local family and friends or just those NPR loving, Saab driving, professor types that write poetry in the Arb). It was the kind of show we don’t often see back in the D these days or maybe just a credit to Brendan’s 4 records in 13 years — he doesn’t have a ton of fans, but I don’t think he’s ever lost one either.
The show itself was really good. If you’ve ever seen Brendan you know his shows don’t sound exactly like the album, in part because he plays nearly ever part on every album and his bands always add their own personality, typically bringing far more rock than you might have guessed.
For me, it will always be tough get past my nostalgia for the Wellfed Boys. I learned about Brendan during the Lapalco era, found a then out of print copy of One Mississippi, and proceeded to see him as much as I could. Zach Ships blazing on guitar, Matt Aljian swinging fiercely behind the kit locked in with Eric Pott on Bass. But the secret weapon was always Chris Plum, Brendan’s counterpart in Mood Elevator — he hit every harmony and together their vocal blend always seemed greater than the sum of its parts.
The current band is very professional, and they play a pretty good set, covering good chunks of the new album and the three previous ones, including a few from 1996’s One Mississippi that I can’t recall ever hearing live before (“Crosseyed” was awesome). But like the four piece that Brendan toured with on Alternative to Love, they falter on some of the harmonies, particularly those from the older albums. Also, at times you can tell the band was a bit slapped together for a series of tour dates — they are talented, but they just don’t always come across as completely cohesive — unlike a band that comes up together and can anticipate and compensate for each others’ idiosyncrasies.
But lest I come off too negative, I couldn’t have enjoyed myself more — Brendan himself is far more self-assured on both guitar, his own vocal talents than he was in past. And as always his tuneful songs remain center stage. I found myself bouncing and singing along with nearly every song — which typically I’d assume would annoy the heck out of everyone around me — but in this case everyone around me was pretty much doing the same thing.
A lot of times I find myself looking at a bill with a couple of local bands I like and saying to myself, “man, I’ve seen these guys like 5 times this year, I don’t really need to see them again.” What last night’s show reminded me, is that those opportunities won’t always be there, your favorite band will break up, move on, leave town or find some success and stop playing those local $5 cover shows. Make the most of the opportunities to enjoy them while you can, you’ll thank yourself later and appreciate their less frequent returns even more.
Video posted at 12:57
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