"The Temple of God is Holy. Which Temple Ye Are" read the inscription above the entrance to Saturday night’s seated chapel show at the First Unitarian Church. Now I must admit I don’t know precisely what that means, but it expressed a kind of reverence that seemed fitting for what is easily my new favorite music venue and the sounds that were soon to fill its confines. As I took my seat in the small chapel of only ten or so pews and gazed around at the altar, dark woodwork, stained glass, and stone floor, I could sense that my fellow concertgoers were similarly taking it all in. Hushed tones dominated the first ten minutes or so, but little by little the crowd began to loosen up, helped in no small part by being informed that we were allowed to bring in our own alcohol (BYOB mass, now that’s a concept to be further explored). By the time Virgin Forest began their set and those who were standing were invited to sit on the floor and be comfortable, we were all ready for a unique night of music.
When Matthew Houck first took the stage at the start of Phosphorescent’s set I took one look at his incredibly glassy eyes and naturally assumed he was high. It turned out that he probably was, but he had a reasonable excuse; "At least two of us have a cold tonight," he explained and went on to joke, punctuated by some seriously phlegmy coughs, that he wasn’t going to say who. While it was clear that he wasn’t feeling his best between songs though, I can’t imagine him giving a better performance, living up to his word that he was going to muscle though it. I suppose we’ve all come to expect some of that vulnerability in his voice, as he struggles to reach just a bit out of his range, and his sickness may even have forced him to reach just that much deeper. The opening performance of "At Death, A Proclamation" laid to rest any doubts about whether we would be seeing Phosphorescent at their best. The build-up was spine-tingling as the band stretched out and ambient harmonies permeated every inch of the tiny chapel.
An unfortunately aborted version of "A Picture of Our Torn Up Praise" followed, as the band struggled with some sound issues. Matthew was noticeably vexed that the venue’s organizers hadn’t been around to sound-check. With no noticeable problems from then on though, the band pulled off what were to me some truly original takes on standouts like "Cocaine Lights," and "Wolves." It wasn’t that they were performed in particularly novel arrangements, but that the immediacy of the live setting added an emotional weight that replaced some of the spaciness or distance that comes across on record and especially on Pride. The highlight had Matthew standing on a pew with just the mic in his hand to belt out George Jones’s "If Drinking Don’t Kill Me." Embracing his surroundings he called out for mercy; "Lord it’s been ten bottles since I tried to forget her." And when his calls seemed to go unanswered, he shook his fists in misery; "If the drinking don’t kill me, her memory will."
If there was any one highlight for the band as a whole it would have to have been "Lost Name." Progressing through a series of seemingly never-ending crescendos the entire supporting cast seemed to take off on its own while Matthew just strummed along. It was a unique moment in a show where the frontman often deservedly took center stage.
Though of course it wasn’t the only opportunity for the rest of the band to flex out. The opener, Virgin Forest, was essentially Phosphorescent minus Matthew Houck. They didn’t present anything boldly different from the headliner, but they had a pretty solid set of folky songs that served as a nice entrée for the main course to come. Any band that talented shouldn’t spend 100% of its time in the shadows. With their first full length being released soon, I’m looking forward to following them as they develop a sound all their own.
