Band of Horses + Cass McCombs + Tyler Ramsey - Paradise Rock Club (Boston, MA; Jan. 23, 2008)

Read, study, dine, sleep: they all have to wait.... Band of Horses was playing at the Paradise and I have my priorities. Lots of pressure on this my inaugural write-up.  I better start typing while my ears still ring.

It’s so satisfying when you discover gems in openers. Tonight’s two openers—Tyler Ramsey and Cass McCombs & the Middle Class—proved such happy discoveries.  Ramsey, the one-man-show, took to the stage in a pre-crowd Paradise, tall, slender, bearded, and sticking to dress code (i.e., snug blue jeans and a buttoned-down, pointy-collared, pearl button Texan shirt). Before I get into it: cheers to Ramsey for opening the show to melophobe!  Greatly appreciated.  Ahem.... Not having heard any of Ramsey’s tunes before, I opened myself to his rhythms and words.  The pulse swung between grey day, couch-and-tea to progressive, pensive, solo-road tripping; that is, I could see myself turning to his music across a variety of backdrops and dispositions.  Words were few; like with those generic, back-of-trashy-magazine horoscopes, I tried to make what words there were fit my own life—“I hope that there is wind enough to take you were you want to go” became my personal mantra. Ramsey’s twangy, hollow notes and simple lyrics snuck their unassuming way around the “strange, narrow, wide room” that is the Paradise and succeeded in entertaining an early few.

Cass McCombs & the Middle Class were a “city of brotherly love” unto themselves.  This band of not-so-middle-classers glided over technical hurdles to dutifully pump up the burgeoning crowd for what was to follow.  The 4-man band shook out a total of 9 songs ripe with thunderous drum beats, tinny vibrato, and appropriately overpowered vocals.  Lead singer McCombs bobbed off to one side (his smiling, striped-shirt drummer took center stage), restless fingers delivering sporadic string explosions, greasy side locks curtaining closed eyes. Between songs, McCombs, oozing enduring moodiness, dimple-grinned messages to his band mates –- there is something private and wonderful about watching silent stage communication.  Under a frenzy of flashing light, Cass McCombs & the Middle Class bid goodnight to the good people of the Paradise, singing “It’s time to rest.” So concluded the jewelry box of openers –- guys having fun making good music under hot lights in Boston.

And then there was one… time to confide: Band of Horses has moved me in jerky, deep dives across and around tiny apartment dwellings in Portland, Japan, and Boston.  I’d first seen the South Carolina-based group a few years back at the hung-floor Crystal Ballroom in Portland, where I was rocked and elbowed by a happy crowd of folk.  This night, set-up was a family affair: Ramsey joined the ranks to “test, test” mics and untangle wires, and bearded Ben Bridwell snuck out with a hot cup of joe to organize his equipment (only to be interrupted by a pasty-faced, middle aged, feeling-no-pain heckler).  The stage cleared, the sing-along stock-music played, and 15 silent guitars gleamed—I was netted in pre-rock anticipation. Enter Band of Horses with “Is there a Ghost”, a first song both predictable and supreme off their 2007 release Cease to Begin. Bridwell’s coffee, not so steamy, returned accompanied by a sweating Miller Lite. The band moved through a collage of new and old –- The Great Salt Lake, Ode To LRC, and Funeral, among others.  Like their foreshadowers, Band of Horses presented polished cohesion throughout the soar and boom of their music.  Mr. Bill Reynolds, Bridwell’s main man to his left, won my coveted Performer Crush Award –- his white, v-necked shirt, stretch-tight blue jeans, black and brown cowboy boots, tuft of blond chest hair, and alternating spread-leg/crossed-leg, open mouth stance made me shiver and smile. Bridwell himself, brow furrowed in performance, conducted the show with humble grace and a sense of humor.  When, part way through, he donned a dusty “Gearhammer/Just…stand on it!” cap and was queried by Boston’s best heckler, previously introduced, as to why he didn’t choose to sport a Patriots logo a la “when in Rome,” twinkle-eyed Bridwell calmly responded “Why would I have a Patriots hat?  I don’t even live here,” adding that besides, “I like my hat.” I liked his hat, too.

Honestly, with their smoldering, slow-building beats, wait-for-it, body-rocking moments, and stretching, soaring vocals, Band of Horses put on a top-notch Wednesday night show. Shit, they put on a good show for any night of the week. Dizzy faintness from sleep debt and a lack-of-study test anxiety (and that damn buzzing that just won’t stop no matter how many times I yawn)—all well-worth a night of live music in Paradise, hidden gems and known gold alike.

Set List
Is There A Ghost
The Great Salt Lake
Weed Party
TooSoon
Marry Song
13 Days
House
No One’s Gonna Love You
Older
Monsters
Snow (The First Song)
Ode To LRC
Wicked Gil
Funeral

Encore:
Writers (General Specific)
Effigy (CCR Cover)
Feeling Stronger (Chicago cover)

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