I saw Ray LaMontagne a few years back at the Orpheum. A friend of mine had an extra ticket, and I had wanted to check out the venue. Sadly, a combination of the most horrific seating locale flush-right (springs pushing through the worn velvet cushions), atrocious opener, embarrassingly rude audience, and LaMontagne so clearly distracted by the vulgarities of his Boston-based followers, all resulted in complete and utter dissatisfaction.
Although the aesthetics and comfort of the Boston Opera House, the lovely opener Leona Naess, and LaMontagne's ability to perform without distraction all represent noteworthy improvements, Friday night's show proves to be much the same. It's a real shame that someone as talented and seemingly kind as LaMontagne attracts such obnoxious fans. I can only speak from my two Boston experiences, so perhaps things are different in other parts of the country; but as the night wears on, I slink further and further down in my seat and count the months until I leave Boston for good.
The stage set-up flies in the face of American individualism: no center stage preening for LaMontagne. Instead he is tucked off to one side within a semi-circle of musicians, one of five that together construct driving pieces stitched with organic, autumnal tones and lyrics.
While his songs generally lack uniqueness and stream together, they are altogether pleasing, with moments of harmonica and guitar twang and grit. LaMontagne highlights his third album, Gossip in the Grain, with performances of "You Are the Best Thing," "Hold You in My Arms" and "Winter Birds." Most moving (and alternatively just plain awful), are the moments on stage when LaMontagne's voice stretches up towards the gilded ceiling, holding onto the words until they were whispers. LaMontagne's voice is gritty and vintage, while communicating emotion and story through clear lyrics. Cue the most obnoxious of all audience members, clearly intoxicated (though not an excuse his behavior). SItting front, stage left, this fool decides to play a clever game of listen-and-repeat with LaMontagne during "Jolene." To LaMontangne's credit, he pushes through the song, emitting a few forced chuckles, and offering, "It's nice to be loved by strange women" in response to a barrage of "I love you, Ray"s that challenge the repeater in annoyance. LaMontagne then quickly brings back his band.
My advice: enjoy his music in the comfort of your own home, and do not venture out to large venues to catch him live.
