Before
summer even started, tickets went onsale for Frank Turner at Webster Hall on
the last day of September. I
bought mine the first day, and it was a good thing too, because the show
quickly sold out. The previous
night on the calendar was then added for those who missed the first sale and
those who wanted a double-shot of the hard-edged acoustic rock of the former
punk and brilliant wordsmith.
I
arrived at the venue just as Jenny Owen Youngs took her spot stage right with
nothing more than a microphone and an acoustic guitar. I've been listening to Miss Youngs for
a few years now, but I'd never seen her live, nor did I know she had a new
album out. The cutie with the
potty mouth opened with a trio of tunes from An Unwavering Band of Light, her
blue eyes obscured by a curtain of bangs as she belted out her snarky-sweet
lyrics to the ceiling. JOY
revealed that an X-Files episode in which cockroaches burrowed under
townspeople's skin was the inspiration behind "Clean Break" ("Here is a love song through that
filter. So you're welcome."), and
after fumbling through the bridge of the seldom-played "Already Gone," announced giddily, "Guess what? We
just made a new bridge together and it's very exciting." She explained that she was going to
play a cover that was a singalong, and that she wanted us to join. "Some people are like, 'Why don't you
fucking sing along, dick?'" she teased, and went into Johnny Cash's "Ring of
Fire." At the song's completion: "You
nailed it… to the cross!" She
closed with "Last Person," playing with such vigor that she broke a guitar
string. I saw her after the show
giving hugs and high-fives to fans at the merch table.
Having
never seen or heard of Larry & His Flask before, I was hoping for some old
blues musician, who would sit on a stool, swilling whisky between songs,
progressively getting drunker throughout his set. It turned out to be a sextet who played raucous songs on a
variety of organic instruments, including mandolin, baritone horn, banjo, and
double bass. A mosh pit
opened up directly behind me, and I wasn't pleased to have to spend their
41-minute set protecting my back.
I wasn't really into them either, but I did enjoy "Beggars Will Ride" and what
they called their only love song, "I'll Be Gone." Guitarist/vocalist/sweatiest man alive Ian Cook descended
into the crowd for the last number, urging everyone to squat low to the ground
until erupting into a giant brawl at the song's climax.
I
moved towards the center of the room before Frank's set, so I wouldn't have to
put up with the monkeys on my back.
Turner, reinforced by his band the Sleeping Souls, entered the stage to
a recording of the somber horn intro to "Eulogy," proudly picking up the song where
the vocals kick in. Pausing
briefly after the song, Turner moved into "The Road," which brewed a moshing
hurricane where the pit had been for the Flask. The floor beneath my feet shook like a bounce castle, but at
least I had a good two- or three-person buffer between me and the mayhem.
After
the joyous "Glory Hallelujah," the band seamlessly went into an excellent "Reasons Not to Be an Idiot," one of my favorite FT songs. "Tomorrow we're flying back off to the
West Coast to record a brand new album," Frank said, unveiling new song "One
Fine Day" as an indictment of the film Amélie. Turner revealed that we were taking part in a crowd
participation exam, and that we'd already passed test one, which was clapping
along. The "ba ba ba"s of "Wessex
Boy" would be our chance to complete phase two: singing along. We passed.
Even
though Frank Turner used to front post-hardcore band Million Dead, I'd never
seen crowdmembers slamdancing at his shows. And at any concert, I'd never witnessed people actually pulling unwilling
participants from the barriers of a mosh pit into its riotous eye. While some of Turner's songs could
incite this sad excuse for dancing, "Substitute" is not one of them. A beautiful song about trading music
for love, it should never lead to violence. But it did.
Idiots.
But
that's the worst they could do to ruin a song, right? Nope. The
Sleeping Souls left Frank to perform two solo songs, including the unreleased "Wherefore Art Thou Gene Simmons," which explores the inherent sadness in
Simmons' admission to having had sex with 4600 women, remembering them only by
a stash of Polaroid photographs. I
wasn't surprised to find out that people who fight each other to music have no
concept of rhythm, exemplified by three assholes clapping offbeat during the
tender song.
He
followed "Gene" with "Dan's Song," where we were informed of the third part of
our examination: playing an instrument. "I'm not Skrillex, so I can't afford to give everyone in the crowd a
guitar to play along," Frank laughed.
Instead he walked us through how to play an air harmonica, where you
just make loud noises while holding an invisible sandwich in front of your
mouth. We did a trial run, to
which Frank responded, "Solid 5 out of 10, New York. You do realize this is the
single biggest headline I've ever done in the United States of America." The revelation inspired us to step up
our air harmonica game, but even that didn't compare to the real harmonica
played by keyboardist Matt Nasir on "I Knew Prufrock."
My
favorite song of the evening was "One Foot Before the Other," which has always
sounded out of place on the album, but the combination of flashing lights and
driving bass really set this one ablaze.
When it got to the Muse-esque breakdown, I couldn't help but laugh at
what a great time I was having.
The tune was followed by "Four Simple Words," in which the final phase
of the test was divulged: dancing. "Now, the people in the middle pushing into each other is a valid form of
dancing," Frank claimed, though I have my disagreements. "But you could also do the Charleston," he offered. Hyped up by the info
that Turner had been keeping stock of which city had the best dancing on the tour, and that
the previous night's show held the current record, we danced or hearts out,
though our effort seemed to go unnoticed.
After
set-ender "I Still Believe" with Jenny Owen Youngs on actual harmonica, Frank
revisited the stage alone for an encore.
Twinkling lights behind him, he played "St. Christopher is Coming Home" for someone whose name he couldn't recall. The Sleeping Souls came back for "If Ever I Stray" along
with "Photosynthesis," in which Turner finally acknowledged, "Thank you so
much, Dance Champions of the United States of America!" (Tangent: It's sort of funny how he
said the full name of our country, considering we'd say England, or leave out
the Great in Britain, or save time with the acronym, UK. I think the only time most Americans
say "United States of America" is when they're reciting the Pledge of
Allegiance or talking about that band that sang "Peaches.")
Congratulations
to Frank Turner on a successful tour.
I got an insider tip that he'll be back in NYC in April, so get your
tickets as soon as they become available.
Unless you're one of the dicks in the mosh pit that only learned about
Frank from Bamboozle. Then just
stay home.
JENNY OWEN YOUNGS –
09.30.12 – WEBSTER HALL (28 minutes)
SET –
Love for Long / Pirates /
Your Apartment / Clean Break / Already Gone / Ring of Fire / Last Person
FRANK TURNER – 09.30.12 –
WEBSTER HALL (1 hour, 29 minutes)
SET –
Eulogy / The Road / Peggy
Sang the Blues / Long Live the Queen / Glory Hallelujah > Reasons Not to Be
an Idiot / One Fine Day / Wessex Boy / Substitute / Wherefore Art Thou Gene
Simmons / Dan’s Song / I Knew Prufrock Before He Got Famous > I Am
Disappeared / One Foot Before the Other / Four Simple Words / Try This at Home
> I Still Believe (feat. Jenny Owen Youngs)
ENCORE –
St. Christopher is Coming
Home / If Ever I Stray > Photosynthesis (feat. Larry & His Flask)
.JPG)
