Think of the last movie you saw that featured a painful breakup followed by a somber montage of crying and wallowing. Marissa Nadler’s music would be the perfect complement to such a scene as it sounds like an amalgam of Mazzy Star and Leonard Cohen. It’s sad and sophisticated, and many audience members appear lost in thought as they listen intently – perhaps remembering all-too-familiar periods of their own lives. As calm and quiet as her songs are, no one chatters with a neighbor or thumbs at a phone. Everyone is attentive as her set continues with "In Your Lair, Bear," a song about hibernation and reclusive behavior. She follows it with "Mexican Summer," a dreamlike tale of lost love. Though her chosen themes may be dark, the warmth and richness of her voice is intoxicating. Nadler can do glorious things with her vocal chords, changing pitch and shifting octaves with ease. She looks serene as she picks at the strings with her fingers, and keeps her eyes open wide as the haunting old-time melodies escape her lips.
Nadler is introverted, and the intimacy of Mississippi Studios serves her well. It’s slightly odd to be seated in such a venue, though the modular chairs provide what seems to be a comfortable distance between this performer and her audience. After three songs of her own, she plays a cover medley that combines a Townes Van Zandt song ("Tecumseh Valley") and a Bruce Springsteen song ("I’m on Fire"). She pauses and mentions needing to work on her stage banter before turning her back to us to tune her guitar. This crowd is a patient lot, and we don’t mind waiting a few moments. It's so quiet, in fact, that I can hear people breathing. With her equipment now in check, she returns to her own material with "Mr. John Lee Revisited." It’s one of several from her forthcoming record, and a sequel to the original "Mr. John Lee" from an earlier album. She notes that many of her new songs are continuations of older ones. For her, the story is ongoing.
The penultimate number, "Daisy, Where Did You Go?" involves a long introduction. She wrote it about Daisy and Violet Hilton, a set of conjoined twins who were featured in the 1932 movie, Freaks, and who lived a life of miserable exploitation before being abandoned by the circus to fend for themselves. Nadler is obsessed with their story, she tells us, and has composed this as a loving tribute to them. She closes her set with "Silvia," and thanks us for being such a nice audience considering the perils of playing quiet live music. Up against the chilling beauty of her work, how could we be anything else?
Darkness descends on the room save for three small shop lights with red bulbs. With only these dim beacons to guide them, the three members of Timber Timbre set up their stations. Billed as a "Canadian Folk Music Project," I have a very specific idea of what to expect. Naturally, this expectation is shattered the moment they begin to play. The band's sound is more accurately categorized as experimental blues rock, and it takes a moment to adjust my thinking. Singer/drummer/primary guitarist Taylor Kirk, performs with a thick accent or is purposely over-enunciating on the initial songs. He and Simon Trottier strum out aggressive notes that twist and reverberate through the many effects pedals present onstage. Adding more depth and texture to the music is violinist Mika Posen, who hides in the shadows as she plays.
For the band’s second song, "Creep On Creepin’ On," each member is concentrating on multiple elements at once. Unprecedented multitasking is taking place as Posen switches effortlessly from violin to keyboard to drum pad. Seated in a folding chair, Kirk plays his guitar and sings while stomping simultaneously at his kick drum. It’s an astonishing thing to witness. The band continues these impressive feats throughout their performance, and adds even a few more instruments to the mix. Both an autoharp and a lap steel guitar make appearances on Trottier's lap. The small venue is so packed that all available wall space is lined with bodies and people are sitting in awkward poses in the aisles. Good thing the fire marshal isn’t here.
Timber Timbre concludes the set with "Do I Have Power," from their latest album. The song becomes a meandering, lyricless loop with the occasional mid-note vocal yawp from Kirk. Once it draws to a close, the band steps temporarily offstage. They return for one more song, "Trouble Comes Knocking." Kirk and Trottier pick heavily at their respective bass strings. The audience claps enthusiastically along, but this peters out midway through. As a result, Kirk flubs a verse and immediately blames the crowd. Participation resumes with vigor, and clapping carries on until the last note is played. Just as quickly as they appeared, the band members hastily unplug their many instruments and are gone.
