Joanna Newsom
Weird War
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A label party is a golden opportunity for new bands to get exposure. Up-and-comers get a chance to reach the larger audience, one that arrived for their headlining labelmates. Of course, when two acts share nothing besides a label it can be dangerous.
Such was the case at Drag City Records' holiday concert, "It's a Wonderful Next Life." The show featured two excellent, left-of-center headliners: morose, alt-country soloist (smog) and divine harpist Joanna Newsom. The two have little in common stylistically, but they fit together on a bill as only a pair of idiosyncratic, solo performers can. Each is a bit subdued for a holiday party, but I, as the rest of the sold-out house, clearly welcome any chance to see them play.
Similarly idiosyncratic maybe, but psychedelic/punk outfit Weird War doesn't fit Newsom and (smog) in any other sense. The quartet is a longtime fixture to their D.C. hometown crowd, so at this point their stage show has only known elements, for me at least. When I lived in D.C. I saw them half a dozen times, and so I expect certain things from their energetic, goofily un-ironic front man Ian Svevonius. He will always say the words "I like this music" no matter what sounds are coming from the band; he will always spend half the set describing what each song is about in phrases as inscrutable as the Oracle's at Delphi; and during guitar solos he will always dance like an extra on the set of The Planet of the Apes.
I love seeing Svevonius for all these reasons, but I get more pleasure from watching an unsuspecting crowd's response, usually equal parts befuddlement and distaste. But tonight, the band kept it short, and after a brief, four-song set they left the stage without a goodbye.
Bill Callahan, the singer/guitarist behind (smog), appeared and set up shop on stage left. His molasses-slow arpeggios and perfect, monosyllabic bass vocals brought the pace of the show down to half-tempo. Suddenly the Bowery Ballroom filled, as if the audience had been waiting in the wings for this moment. Amazingly, the 500-person room was silent, conversation stopped so absolutely that the only other sound accompanying Callahan was the cash register behind the bar. After his first song, he greeted the crowd. "It's Christmas," he said cheerlessly. "And my monitor is harsh."
The crowd's enjoyment of (smog) seemed to work in an inverse proportion to Callahan's mood. The sadder he seemed the louder the cheering. And yet after just four songs he too wordlessly left the stage.
The lights went down on stage left and another set of lights came up on stage right, illuminating a harp and its pixyish mistress, Joanna Newsom. She trolls the same territory as Bjork, Billie Holiday, and Tori Amos, but in a manner that never suggests plagiarism. Newsom's unadorned harp evokes the aura of both a renaissance fair and a smoke-filled jazz club. Her lyrics verge on the quaintly archaic but with a level of sincerity that the overbearing Decembrists could only dream about. She may have been born in the '80s, but Newsom could have just as easily have been alive and playing in the 60s psychedelic folk scene, or in 16th century Tudor England, for that matter.
Newsom has only one full-length album, Milk-Eyed Mender, released earlier this year, but she's already become a darling of critics and music fans. And after her first song, "Bridges and Balloons," the audience's roar of approval showed exactly who the crowd came to see. But after her fourth song she too quietly left the stage. It was only around 10:30. Was the show already over?
Not quite. Weird War returned to the stage in new outfits, and it became clear that Drag City was pulling something unusual. Even though it was obvious where the crowd's favor lay, the acts' were performing on a rotation, each taking three short turns onstage and then wrapping it up with an encore, just as equably, one song each.
It might have seemed a good idea on paper, but the audience didn't enjoy the switch-up. A large contingent decided to head downstairs to the bar rather than adjust from Newsom's limpid treble to the squalling yowl of Svevonius. But of the remaining crowd, the manic depressive line-up had made them rowdy and impatient, more willing to heckle. Svevonius opened the song "Housework for 3" by telling us that while it was okay to have housework for one or two, it was even better to have housework for three. "Know what I mean?" he asked. "No," came a chorus of replies, with the odd shout of "DC subway system sucks!" thrown in. It's true. It does suck.
Despite the fallout, by the time they played the strutting novelty song "Why to Girls like Guys Life That?" and returned for a thrilling, thrashy encore of "Bag Inc." people seem to have caught on to the humor and unselfconscious pleasure of Weird War's classic rock 'n' roll posturing.
(smog) didn't fare quite so well on the second go. He stayed true to his plodding, baleful persona. But his return gave me a chance to wonder: do men with soulful, bass voices have only two options: the Barry White or the Johnny Cash routes. Can't a deep voice express non-sexual pleasure, or non-folksy sorrow? Maybe Callahan isn't as sad as we all think. I mean, maybe the song "Teenage Spaceship" isn't actually sad; we just can't tell because of the frequencies of the vocals are too low to listen without damaging the inner ear. For a moment I'd like to argue for a reappraisal of (smog) but then comes the encore: "Dress sexy at my funeral / my good wife," Callahan mournfully croons. As far as I'm concerned, he's already dead.
Unlike her fellow Drag City artists, Newsom is impervious to the hurdy-gurdy of the mini-sets. To this audience, and to this reviewer, she can do no wrong. Though the setting makes it impossible for her to build a through line or to create an overarching atmosphere, every time she reappears it's clear that she has forged a bond with her fans. She may have cornered the market of indie-folk harp music, but it's already quite clear that she is no novelty act. Even lesser known songs such as "What We Have Known," the B-side to "Sprout and the Bean" single immediately register. She may have a limited amount of material this early in her career, but so far there hasn't been any hint of backlash.
Like any family gathering, especially during the holidays, Drag City's showcase displayed tension between siblings. The hip, older brother still acts too cool for school, years after dropping out and retreating to his parents' basement; the depressed loner middle child draws further into himself and his sense of tragic self-importance; and the perfect, younger sister still gets all the attention, love, and praise. Like any family party, this weekend gathering reminded everyone why, even though they're related, they only get together once a year.
— 21 December 2004
