9.26.2005 |  A better review than I know how to write:

posted by Jon
15:37 | SAY SOMETHING |



"The venue, the Mercy Lounge of Nashville, was awesome. The bulding appeared to be an old (say 40s-60s) warehouse right by the railroad tracks. They'd removed nearly all the internal dividers to allow for maximum line-of-sight floorspace around the stage (there were probably six hundred people there and everyone could fit in line-of-sight of the stage with plenty of personal space). One brick wall was left inside to separate the tables/booths/restroom area from the bar/show area, so if you wanted to take a break, slip off to the W.C., or just meet up with some friends for a drink and listen to the show, you had that area nicely uncrowded by the show people. The bar itself was v. swank, EXCELLENTLY stocked, and more than adequately manned by six-seven bartenders; also, the stage was set into a recess in the wall with the bar located along the longest wall leading to that recess, so you could simply step aside to the bar for a drink without blocking anyone's view of the show. There was also an entire upstairs portion that (I think) was entirely a bar/lounge area, in case you wanted nothing to do with the show. These people understood exactly what a good venue for shows needs: plenty of space, a great bar, and not much else.

"As for the show, let me firstly state that Sufjan's backing band's name of "the Illinoisemakers" is no joke. That show was far louder than I was expecting. When I say loud, though, I don't mean raucous loud, like wailing guitars and screeching distortion... I suppose bombastic is the best word for it. If parts of the Illinois album (particularly any parts with trumpets and background vocalists chiming in together) swept you along like a current in a stream, the live show plows over and through you with a glorious avalanche of sound. We're talking about the difference between the pleasant crackling of fireworks on the Fourth of July and the power of a full orchestra performing a symphony. They were there to make a joyful noise. Oh, and to cheer.

"Yeah, I said cheer. I knew this show wasn't going to be like any I'd seen before when the band runs out in blue cheerleading shirts emblazoned with a huge, orange "I" and Sufjan himself is deckedout in a star-spangled track suit and Cubs cap. Then we heard "Hey everybody! Let's pack our bags and visit the fifty states!" Then you heard (obviously) the Fifty States Song, which was so perfectly, hilariously dead-panned and purely funny in parts ("North Dakota/Nebraska/is there anything there?". There were cheers and pom-poms and ridiculous lines like "Go, go, Metropolis! See it through binoculous! Clark Kentalopolis! He was a super man! GO GO METROPOLIS!" . What really sold you on it all was the fact that the band was having so much fun during the show. Sufjan tried to keep a perfect deadpan going as the head (and completely inept, off-rhythm, etc.) cheerleader, but cracked up a few times. The other band members cheered enthusiastically even as their faces lit up with grins at the goofiness of what they were doing. Everybody smiled during the children's-church-reminiscent hand motions of "Prairie Fire That Wanders About." Band members danced as they played their instruments during active parts like the end of "The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts." They grooved and honestly smiled during the feel-good notes, like the end of "Jacksonville." When the music was soaring and serious. there wasn't a one of them that didn't have their eyes closed in some kind of somber ecstasy, completely lost in the very music they were playing. There was a total earnestness in them, underlying everything from the ironic cheerleading to the genuine smiles, to the sense that they were there above all else to celebrate something and we were all invited to come along.

"Eanestness like that is infectious; we came along. People danced, clapped, and sang along with genuine enthusiasm; hipsters and regular folks alike unselfconsciously lit up with real smiles without an edge of snark or irony to them. "Casimir Pulaski Day" hit and not another sound was to be heard, but plenty of moist eyes were to be found on guys and women both. "Chicago" came and there wasn't a person in the crowd with nostalgia written all over their faces, whispering in unison "I made a lot of mistakes" with a tone equal parts celebration of the past and hope for the future. There's that word again: celebrate, celebration. I'd wager there wasn't a single person there that didn't at some point feel joy spread out from their center to the tips of their fingers and toes, a willigness to celebrate an inherent beauty in a gestalt life assembled from various bright and somber pieces.

"In the end the feeling with which that show left me was of having touched something completely innocent, earnest, and hopeful. It was the excitement of running out the door to summer on the last day of elementary school. It was the awe of a child walking into Disneyland for the first time. It was the eagerness of a kid frantically rushing to plug the newest game into the NES, a kid that hasn't yet had to worry about bills, school, or anything else about tomorrow. It was a sense of wonder at the now-adults being able to look at fear and the past, mistakes and cancer, where we've been and where we're going, and still find plenty of reason to celebrate. It was a recognition of that same joy and hope on the faces of others, even if I didn't know the particular pasts and presents being celebrated.

"For me it was that watching the faces of others that was the best part. The feeling of shared experience is one of the best aspects of any good show; at this show you couldn't shake the sense that when we sang "we celebrate our sense of each other/we have a lot to give one another" that, even if for just a moment, we really meant it. I know Sufjan and his band did, fish-shaped tambourines, banjos, Illinoise and all.

"Addendum: I can understand if you think this is some overly-pretentious, romanticizing fanboy Pitchfork review of a show. You're entitled to that opinion. All I know is that I've been to plenty of shows before, great shows even, and I've not felt like that before. It was obvious to everyone in there that we were watching something special and a little overwhelming coming from Sufjan and his band. Powerful. Magical might be the best word for it. I felt at the time and still feel priviledged to have been there."



Original post located here. The opinions expressed therein are not necessarily those of this blog, but are close enough.