The Lonely Forest have played for about three seconds and I already love them. They begin with "Turn Off This Song and Go Outside," which singer John Van Deusen performs with his eyes tightly shut. He has an expressive face, and sticks his tongue out as if he is concentrating very hard. All four members are playing with everything they have, making themselves much larger than the tiny Mississippi Studios stage on which they are perched. It’s been ages since a band elicited such a grin from me. Their enthusiasm and fun-loving delivery continues into the second song, "(I Am) The Love Addict," and remains at a high level throughout the set. Van Deusen refuses to make eye contact with us, and looks at the ceiling in the rare times his eyes are open. Perhaps most of the crowd is standing further away than the band prefers. Coyness aside, each song is compelling and excellent, and the Lonely Forest are a superb choice of opener for the Joy Formidable.
As their time on stage draws to a close, the vocals become slightly overpowered, but the strength of the instruments is not unwelcome. They end on a song with punky undertones that include fervent, fast-paced drumming from Braydn Krueger. Van Deusen loses his guitar pick in the chaos, but recovers another from his pocket without missing a note. With a final burst of energy, the Lonely Forest are gone. Weary from a weeks-long tour, they quickly dismantle their equipment and regretfully inform us they must hit the highway immediately. Their families await them in Anacortes, Washington.
Following the Lonely Forest's swift departure into the night, the stage is filled with frenzied activity as the headliners' equipment is set up. A mic stand adorned with a vine of hanging crystals is placed front and center. The floor is lined with dozens of effects pedals. The members of the Joy Formidable assemble before us and begin their set with incredible force. Starting with "The Ever-Changing Spectrum of a Lie," vocalist Ritzy Bryan stomps aggressively at the many pedals like she’s playing an upper level of Dance Dance Revolution. The band plays furiously, as if their lives depend on being audible from outer space. With the members' exaggerated moves and wide-eyed delivery, watching them is akin to viewing a cartoon. Bryan, pixielike in her blue babydoll dress, makes a curtsey at the end of this first song.
Band members interact with one another constantly, and maintain their animated spirit throughout the performance. They are working hard, and drummer Matt Thomas downright abuses his drum set during crowd favorite "The Greatest Light is the Greatest Shade." Bryan is theatrical in her performance, and maintains a look of surprise and delight on "Cradle" and "Buoy." She playfully hip-checks bassist Rhydian Dafydd, stopping short of smashing the neck of her guitar into his bass strings. They each grab large red drumsticks and join in the percussion on "Don’t Want to See You Like This," with Bryan crashing at the cymbals and Dafydd on a stand-alone drum on the opposite side of the stage. There is punch and pizzazz in every note, and the band members’ bursts of energy are superhuman.
The final song, "Whirring," concludes in an extended jam. Without warning, the band's aggression escalates to full-fledged violence. Mic stands are thrown to the floor. Guitars are thumped on their ends and whacked against a nearby amp. Dafydd bashes his bass against the cymbals, and Bryan drops to her knees to twist at the plethora of effects knobs. From the front row, I brace myself for impact from flying stage shrapnel, and watch as the musical carnage unfolds. Suddenly, everything stops. The band slinks offstage and a sound guy jumps up to shut everything off. Once he begins wiping the bass down with a rag, it becomes clear there will be no encore. Hopeful audience members wait for it, but the house lights come on instead. An aptly-named band if ever there was one, the Joy Formidable have infused us with delight, and their hour-long set has been nothing short of phenomenal.
