Ben Kweller at 9:30 Club: 19 October 2012

In March of 2011, in an effort to get my then-girlfriend (and now-fiancée) Laura interested in some of my music, I bought two tickets to see Pete Yorn play 9:30 Club here in DC. I figured she, being from North Carolina and with an affinity for country and folk music, would really like some of Yorn's stuff. The good news is she really enjoyed the show. The bad news is she was lukewarm on Yorn, and instead fell in love with his opening act, Ben Kweller. In her defense, Yorn was a bit lethargic that night, while Kweller cranked his furious energy and Texas twang up to eleven. I must confess I didn't know much about Kweller that night. But after the show was over and we made our customary stop at the merch table, we both came home and iTunesed (is that a verb?) most of Kweller's discography, and I'm happy to say any lingering disappointment I had when she didn't like Pete's performance was swept away almost immediately.

Flash forward to this summer, when during one of my customary checks of tour dates I discovered that Kweller was returning to 9:30, only this time he would be the headliner. Needless to say I bought tickets right then and there. As the concert date approached, our enthusiasm swelled, and by the time we were at the venue listening to Lissy Rosemont of the Junior League Band finish up, it was uncontrollable.

Now, earlier in the week, I read this on Twitter:

FRIDAY: I'm performing @930club in DC! me, you, piano, guitar. Taking requests! I can't wait! Get your tix here: ticketfly.com/purchase/event…
— Ben Kweller (@benkweller) October 15, 2012

I figured the "me, you, piano, guitar" portion was only referencing that he is both a skilled pianist and guitarist. But the show was literally just that -- he performed alone (save for a brief guest spot from Lissy Rosemont) and there were only two guitars and one piano at his disposal.

But no one cared. Kweller, as he did last year, oozed energy and confidence throughout the show. He opened with a track off his latest album Go Fly a Kite called "Mean to Me," which he restarted twice due to some problems with his effects pedals. But even that couldn't slow him down, and he tore through his early set with some wicked guitar licks and enthusiastic vocals. At 31 years old, Kweller still has the baby face of an idealistic young musician from a small Southern town. On stage that night, he even looked like a teenager, complete with sleeveless denim jacket, ripped jeans, and a mullet-like mop-top brimming with wavy curls. One gets the sense that he hasn't changed much from his early days in Texas -- he's still the rock and roll outsider expressing himself through infectious hooks and thoughtful ballads. Only now he has found his audience.

Kweller kept it going with some of his more well-known songs from his first major record, Sha Sha. "Wasted & Ready" and "Falling" were particularly good, as he hopped between piano and guitar seamlessly. But at some point in the middle of his set, he moved on to a combination of lesser known tracks and requests shouted from the audience. I guess that's the advantage to his one-man format -- Kweller was able to completely change his set mid-concert, stop songs on a dime, and generally do whatever the fuck he wanted. This was never more evident than during a track from his self-titled third album, "Until I Die":



Kweller invited any audience member with a set of keys to come up on stage and mimic the jingle bells, cymbals, and triangles from the studio version. It wasn't the greatest auditory product in the world, but everyone involved seemed really pumped to be a part of it, including Kweller himself.

The show marched on at a furious pace. In fact, I remember very little of the setlist order because I was having such a good time. I do remember songs in bunches. "Sundress" and "In Other Words" showcased Kweller's piano and vocal chops. "Jealous Girl," another song off his new record, was heartfelt and seems just a little bit autobiographical, which is also true for "Commerce, TX." He gave a shout out to Evan Dando with his cover of "My Drug Buddy." "Hospital Bed" got the crowd singing along towards the end of the show, and by the time Lissy Rosemont joined him for "Fight," I only wanted to hear one more song. He delivered, and closed his finale with "Penny on the Train Track," although for a song that is such a tour de force, only having one performer sapped the energy just a bit. But I can't complain. The show was awesome, and I'm already lobbying hard for Kweller to come back to 9:30 on his next East Coast swing.

The Afghan Whigs at 9:30 Club: 28 September 2012

It's hard to describe exactly what genre of music Greg Dulli makes. In fact, the Afghan Whigs remind me of Led Zeppelin in that regard. Sure, at their core they both made rock music. But the product is so much more. While Zep's sound was heavy on jazz and folk influences, the Afghan Whigs are very much soul and lounge music, and I mean that in the best possible way. It's a brand of rock that is sensual, highly literate, and equally effective at any volume. So I wasn't quite sure what to expect when seeing them for the first time in the small but usually raucous 9:30 Club. Would they pull it back in a live setting, and really connect with the audience? Or would they crank it up to eleven? The answer was a little bit of both.

First of all, the show was the first time in my roughly two-dozen trips to 9:30 that I completely missed the opening act. My fiancée Laura was working late that night, and I wanted to wait for her so we could grab dinner together. Once we polished off CalTort and I got caught up watching way too much of Mississippi Burning, Laura was nice enough to drop me off at the venue. I don't think I missed much though, as I clicked through some of School of Seven Bells' songs on iTunes and wasn't terribly impressed. Anyway, by the time I arrived and had a cold Amstel in hand, the house lights were already dimming.

Greg Dulli is a force of nature. Despite any criticisms I have for the show, above all else I'm glad I was able to witness him perform live. He could have been playing Death Cab or Pomplamoose songs and he would own them, rock them in the best possible way, and the crowd would have loved it. But he began the night with his own stuff (we'll get to the covers later), the classic "Crime Scene Part One," and rightly so. It was great, and it was loud. I mean, really, really, really fucking loud. Maybe I'm just getting too old, but it was the first concert at which I considered stealing someone's earplugs. The Whigs kept the volume up though, churning through some of my old favorites, especially "Uptown Again" and "What Jail is Like." "Jail" in particular was moving, and at this point Dulli and his band were dripping with sweat, feeding off of the energy of the crowd.

But as all great performers do, they took it down a notch, accomplishing this by mixing some of their original songs with snippets of covers. The highlight of this section was "See and Don't See," an obscure soul track by Marie "Queenie" Lyons that the Whigs covered in studio and is available for free download. I can't say I've heard the original, but they've really made it their own, and once again the crowd loved it. Unfortunately, this is where the show lost me. As they ramped the energy back up, I was hoping for a heavy dose of songs from 1965 to close the show. Unfortunately I only got one, "Citi Soleil," as they chose to stick with their earlier work. Near the end of the set, Dulli discussed his feelings on the modern state of the encore with the crowd. "Encore is a word whose French origins come from motherfuckers going crazy. Currently, encore seems to mean, 'They are coming back.' Well, we ain't coming back unless it's the motherfucking French version of encore which is, 'We played our asses off,'" he said. So as they departed the stage and the lights remained low, the crowd went pretty bonkers. (But we all knew they were coming back.)

And come back they did. Now, at this point, I was there for one reason and one reason only -- to hear "Omerta / The Vampire Lanois." I was following set lists of recent shows, and the Whigs had a decent record of closing their encores with those two songs. But once again, they whiffed (in my opinion), opting for three songs off Black Love mixed in with a few Prince covers. It was still enjoyable, all things considered, but I couldn't help but feel disappointed I missed out on hearing my top four or five favorite Afghan Whigs songs. After the encore concluded, I stood there with a handful of others, clapping and shouting away, hoping they would come back for a second encore. No dice.

Finally, I am sad to say that my brother-in-law Matthew, who is the biggest Afghan Whigs fan I know and had a ticket to the show, was unable to make it down from Manhattan. I know he hated missing it. But the good news is his brother Max was able to come, along with his lovely wife Erin. It was great to hang out with them both, if only for a short while after the show, and I hope to see them again soon.

Nada Surf at 9:30 Club: 10 April 2012

In the midst of a long work week and an upcoming trip out of town, my fiancée and I were pretty beat last Tuesday. And since I had seen Nada Surf live twice before, I wasn't hellbent on going that night. The primary reason for my lack of enthusiasm being their new record, The Stars Are Indifferent To Astronomy, isn't my favorite, and I figured the set list would be new song-heavy. In fact, I gave her the option of punting the whole evening, since she's only familiar with a handful of Nada Surf songs. But she, being the amazingly awesome woman she is, agreed to tough it out for my sake. She's pretty much the best.

It was a cool spring night when we arrived at 9:30, about halfway through the set of the opening act, An Horse. They were okay, and pretty typical for an opener -- poorly mixed, lots of energy, pausing to say "Nada Surf will be out here in a bit, hang tight" between every song. I got the sense that I would be really into them if I were in my college years. They are loud and fast and the lead singer is a chick. (I apologize if "chick" is offensive to you, but being in a rock band is one of the few instances where I still feel it's appropriate.) We heard about three songs, which was just enough for me to polish off a beer and get ready for the main event.

At this point I should mention that when setting up at 9:30, the roadies can take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes just to get started, and the speed with which they work usually ranges from "that huge tortoise at the National Zoo" to "Jeff Schultz retrieving a puck out of the corner boards." I'm not sure if it's how picky the bands are themselves, or if the venue is holding them up, but usually you're standing there for way too long and your feet are getting tired and inevitably one of three groups of people will plant themselves right in front of you; annoying couple only interested in taking cell phone videos, four to six people about fifteen years too old to be attending the show, or guys tall enough to form their own semi-professional basketball team. Thankfully, the synergy between the Nada Surf road crew and 9:30 was such that everyone got their shit together and they went on stage on time. And not only was the intermission short, I got to hear Pavement's "Spit on a Stranger" during the break. Much obliged.

As expected, they opened with two new songs, in fact the first two tracks off the new album. But I knew it was going to be a good show from the opening notes of "Hyperspace" on. It reminded me that there's something timeless about all of Nada Surf's songs. They're not dated in any way (except for their one MTV hit, "Popular," which is only dated because you remember the goofy video from 1996). What I mean is, "Hyperspace" is off their second album, released in 1998, but it could just as easily fit into any album they've released since. The band hasn't reinvented themselves or their sound. Every three or four years, they produce a exceptional album. Then they tour. Then they take a break. Rinse, repeat. They could do this until I'm old and grey (I hope they tour The Villages!) and I would still be happy with their work.

Back to the show, I feel like they really hit their stride after "Killian's Red." It's such a hypnotic song that it lulls the audience into a comfortable, sultry, sleep-like state. Then they wake us up with one of my favorite new songs, "Jules and Jim." It evokes the scene from any paint-by-numbers rom-com or sitcom when a couple wakes up the morning after a night of good sex, and they both still seem really satisfied, and the flat sheet is draped perfectly over the woman's body as not to expose areolae. Point being, it just feels good. After that, they played a bunch of songs that aren't my favorites -- "Concrete Bed," "80 Windows," and "The Way You Wear Your Head" -- but hearing them live was a treat. They really give every song the entirety of their energy, and it pays off. That night they were joined by Doug Gillard (most notably of Guided by Voices, who were the source of my favorite 9:30 experience, but probably not in the way you think) and Martin Wenk (who plays a mean theremin), and the quintet was phenomenal. My fiancée in particular was quite taken with the drummer, Ira Elliot, who was admittedly captivating. As bassist Daniel Lorca noted, "He's the only guy who can play the drums like Mick Jagger."

They closed their main set with "Hi-Speed Soul" and "See These Bones," two of their best. And they finished with their signature encore, "Inside of Love," "Always Love," and "Blankest Year" which always calls for audience participation (you get to scream "FUCK IT!"). I missed a few of my personal favorites, but I can't complain. It was an awesome, high-energy, musically coherent show. And I really do appreciate my fiancée going with me, and helping me remember that we're not too old for this shit.

One footnote; frontman Matthew Caws had his father (who is apparently famous or something) and stepmother on the private balcony upstairs. At first they didn't seem to be having much fun, but by the middle of the set, they were up and dancing a little bit. Really freaking cute.