I'm having a bit of hard time coming up with something brilliant to write about last night's performance. I certainly enjoyed the evening - the music was overall very pleasing, nicely paced, but it lacked any major swashbuckling or other dramatic flare that immediately jumps out, begging to bemuse or belittle. In general, the show was well suited to the quiet Triple Door venue with the performers calmly seated just like the possibly "younger than typical" audience. Though I do love (perhaps admire) the Triple Door, there are times when it doesn't quite do justice to the extremes in music. That is, a dinner seating arrangement doesn’t exactly help someone get the crowd up and moving (e.g. Lykke Li's up-tempo dance beats) or support the silence that would (read: should) have enhanced the dramatic effect that closed the opening set with Jamie Spiess of Husbands, love your wives crooning out the last dark lyrics of "I Love My Ghost" a capella. While my friend and I were certainly holding our breath in the front row, I couldn’t help but be slightly annoyed by the clink of wine glasses and forks behind me which interrupted Spiess' well timed pauses and lingering, minor sounding guitar notes that complimented lyrics lamenting the ghost in her house. Spiess, looking a bit like Helena Bonham Carter in Sweeny Todd - delicate pale face, hair astray, black collared dress - opened the evening with a set of several melancholy tunes evoking images of sweet everyday things like clothes drying on a line and repeated themes of death and departure. Her soft, clear vocals and poetic imagery were balanced out with the accompaniment of her friend Damien (Jurado) - who I believe had written several of the songs with Spiess' voice in mind. Despite a few discordant notes when they first started, Jurado's voice and guitar nicely accented the slow strumming and "rise, rise fall" pacing of Spiess' vocals. One of my favorite lyrics was from the song "Jamie All Your Moons," which relates, "My friend Damien, oh he is so tender. And the songs he sings of ghosts and trees, yes they stay with me in the dark."
Following Husbands, love your wives was Seattle-area native Joshua Morrison. Judging from the crowd reaction, quite a few folks were familiar with the pleasing indie folk rock stylings of Morrison and the well placed accompaniment of James McAlister (drums) and Neal Vickers (lovely embellishments and harmonies on cello and electric guitar). Having heard a few songs on the radio a year or so ago, I recalled that several local DJ's had touted him as a strong up-and-coming songwriter, so I decided this would be a good time to have a listen. Morrison performs with a somber presence, strumming confidently yet quietly, delivering thoughtful if not overly complex lyrics largely about appreciating the moments we spend enjoying the company of others and the gift of being here in the now. The sound alone is rather relaxing, inducing a slow head bob that upon closer listen brings out some honest and enduring lyrics about love and life. Though Morrison joined the army in 2004, his songs notably have few references to war itself, instead illuminating ideas about relationships and love, albeit with a leaning towards an appreciation of ones who are missed and themes of returning. This one, I believe a new tune, stuck out for me.
This war has taken its toll on me
You're a saint for giving me something to hope for
when I'm away
because
I am ill equipped to
handle something like this
but somehow you make it betterNo more friends in boxes
draped in color
no more doom and gloom
no more plans on back burners
grab her and tell her exactly what you plan
Though the lyrics suggest an urging tone, Morrison himself came off as extremely calm, if not shy through most of the night, although his last song before the encore did feature some driving drums that brought a sense of anger to his voice. "What's so wrong with being twenty-five, confused, and mad as hell?" Hmm, good question.
As for the overall performance, Morrison noted that they had slowed things down a bit without bass although they still performed many songs at a bit faster paced than on the album (from which the comparison of various reviewers to Elliott Smith seems to have arisen). He chatted relatively little with the audience, mentioning briefly to keep an eye out for the person that broke into his rental car and stole his duffel bag of clothes and took a few cues from someone in the back to send the audience well wishes. He also noted that he recorded new material last week (playing several tunes that I regrettably don't have the titles to) and that he will ship out again for his medic duties in January.
Morrison closed his set with a solo encore, a nostalgic tune about those salient memories of four-wheelin', listening to music in the car and children waiting for school to be cancelled due to snow (perhaps a nod to our recent Northwest winter weather). A fitting finale for the holiday evening, one which may have caused this reviewer at times to find herself listening to the lyrics yet also being lulled into reminiscence about personal memories and loved ones.
Other note:
And to answer Joshua's question about whether the venue used to be a porn theater.... My internet research revealed the Triple Door to be the old Embassy Theater, originally built for vaudeville and the like, used as an adult film theater and now the lovely dining-music experience, so yes, Joshua, it was a porn palace.
