Moody Okkervil's music, set excite fans
Published Oct. 6, 2006
Okkervil River's album covers feature the stuff of nightmares. Lumbering beasts and horrific abominations with mismatched limbs and impossible forms, spawned from the darkest corners of the mind, are sealed beneath the jewel cases like warnings of a curse on an ancient sarcophagus.
Although the Okkervil album artwork might depict nightmares, the band's show on Wednesday at The Blue Note was more like a lucid dream.
But before I delve into the Okkervil portion of the concert, the second opener deserves some mention.
Wearing a multicolored scarf and round glasses and sporting a faux-hawk that revealed a prominent forehead, Elvis Perkins could have passed for a hipster version of Harry Potter. He came onto the stage alone and played an acoustic that had so many scratches it appeared as if it had been mauled by a deranged cat.
Twice during the Elvis Perkins show, the drummer, dressed in plaid and dark rimmed glasses, brought out a massive old-timey bass drum and proceeded to march to the front of the stage, where he played as if he were a master of a slave ship. He mouthed each beat, entranced by the music, almost hitting those in the front row as he extended his arms.
Even with all the excitement and energy present on stage, the keyboard player stood out as the most entertaining. There was never a moment when he was still. He was like a hummingbird, constantly moving and playing different instruments. There was even a point where he started a song called "Doomsday" with a sputtering brassy trombone solo and began to march to the beat as he turned red in the face behind his beard.
Following Elvis Perkins' set, a crowd of techies swarmed the stage, dismantling the entire line of instruments in a few short minutes, leaving almost nothing.
A short time later, Okkervil came onto the stage, and the crowd seemed to barely notice at first. There were a few scattered cheers, which gradually escalated into a low roar of excitement.
The band began with a rendition of "Missing Children" that seemed to lack the energy that was to be expected from a live show. This was a bit disconcerting at first because I didn't have any idea what to expect from a live Okkervil.
But any doubt that might have manifested was quickly done away with when, immediately following, the band played "A King and a Queen" which, quite frankly, blew my mind.
The show's light technician was brilliant. On "Song About a Star," every time Okkervil frontman Will Sheff jumped and touched back onto the ground, the lights changed, making for an extremely effective supplement to the music.
Following "War Criminal Rises and Speaks," Sheff came to the microphone and spoke of a history with Columbia that didn't seem to include fond memories.
Despite whatever history Sheff alluded to, the band gave its entire self to the audience.
As a whole, the band performed well. Sheff's singing revealed every one of his twisted memories and persistent doubt and appeared to be somewhere beyond the theater. And although there was never any shortage of emotion on stage, the energy was at times lacking in some of the band members.
At points, they were noticeably moody, specifically the trumpet player, who never allowed a smile to form on his lips and appeared rather bored throughout the course of the show.
The audience's excitement, however, was quite the opposite, and the music resonated in the Note and mingled with their tireless shouts.