Bon Iver + Phosphorescent + White Hinterland - The Echo (Los Angeles, CA; Mar. 20, 2008)

Waiting outside The Echo on Sunset Blvd., many miles east of the lights and faux-glam of The Strip, I overheard a girl remark to her friend “Wow, the crowd is way less hipster than I expected,” and I must admit, I agreed. Two words summed up the crowd: heavily bearded. Perhaps an homage to the front men of Phosphorescent and Bon Iver, both whom sported healthy facial growth, perhaps not, but while the hipster contingent was still somewhat present, this was a crowd that enjoyed its music without pretense.

Half of the audience was still waiting to get in when Casey Dienel of White Hinterland unassumingly took the stage. She seemed a little nervous, performing without the backing of her band, but the small crowd was supportive and forgiving. Her voice was raw and fragile, gently breaking on certain notes, while her songs favored dissonant, minor-sounding harmonies that sheltered a delicate melody within. The songs she played were reminiscent of unfinished sketches or glimpses of fleeting dreams, and often came to a gradual halt. Throughout her set she alternated between an old-school electronic keyboard and what can best be described as a baby ukulele. She was charming and likeable and it would have been difficult for anyone not to warm to her. Towards the end of her set, however, the background chatter grew increasingly noticeable as the room filled and the lines at the bar grew longer. She played on though, with a growing look of disaffected skepticism, as if to say, “You don’t know what you’re missing.” Fortunately, those of us near the stage witnessed a talented young musician, honing her craft.

Phosphorescent began their set by passing around a bottle of Jose Cuervo, finished-off by a reluctant keyboardist and quickly chased with Coronas. Interesting sidebar: aside from the Cuervo, Corona was the drink of choice for all three acts, probably freebies from the promoter. Anyway, upon finishing the tequila, the words “It’s good to be here Los Angeles, we’re Phosphorescent,” uttered by front man Matthew Houck, echoed out across the now-packed room. The phrase was repeated and overlapped, using a series of retro-looking floor-pedal contraptions, as the band slowly built a wall of sound, composed of keyboards, drums, guitar, bass guitar, and plenty of distortion. And with that surge of momentum, the band plunged into their first song that featured tight, three-part harmonies, a rocking piano, a loud, steady bass line that never quit. The band hit their stride a few songs in with a haunting but full rendition of “Wolves”. Houck clearly is the leader of the band, and he prowled about the stage, staking his claim. His presence was not confrontational, though, more inspirational, as if to say, “Come with me, check out what I’ve discovered.” Tight harmonies and repeating, overlapping melodies were the themes of the evening, as Houck seemed to relish laying layer upon layer of vocals, recorded on-the-spot with those fancy foot pedals. I was impressed by his ability to build at least six, maybe more, layers of the same line, which twice climaxed with an almost primal scream. Towards the end of the show, Houck remarked, “Where were you guys last time we came to town?” I think it’s safe to say with tonight’s performance, Phosphorescent won’t have any trouble filling venues in L.A..

After setting up their own equipment, as all three acts did this evening, Bon Iver humbly began a magnetic performance that never wavered in intensity. The energy in the room immediately focused upon this unpretentious three-man band. It would probably be easy and understandable for Justin Vernon – the band’s founder, who wrote and recorded their first album on his own – to be arrogant, cocky, and caught up in the hype of his band (of which there has been plenty). Yet he couldn’t be further from embodying such an assumption. His presence was calm, familiar, like an old friend or a brother. Previously, I could count the number of times I’ve experienced goose bumps during a show on one hand, but Bon Iver’s opening extended me to a second hand. In interviews, Vernon has alluded to deeply personal and difficult struggles that were the inspiration behind the album, and yet his songs are universal. His performance was captivating for its unfaltering honesty and openness, a fellow human, baring his soul. In “The Wolves (Act I and II),” he encouraged the crowd to join in on the line, “What might have been lost,” as he vocally riffed over the repetition of that simple, expressive lyric. He admitted to being sick but only showed symptoms between songs when he stifled coughs and nursed his water bottle. Towards the end of the show, he complained, “I miss my coffee and beer”, an impassioned longing that earned a large and sympathetic laugh from the audience. Bon Iver’s set was probably the shortest of the night, lasting only forty minutes, and still oddly satisfying.

The show compelled me to purchase their CD, such a purchase a rare indulgence with the current state of the economy. While it has already become a new favorite, it pales in comparison to the live performance. This observation could be applied to all of the performers tonight; their recordings don’t quite do them justice, no matter how excellent the record. If you’re living in LA, you missed out this time around, but if you’re scattered about the country, seriously take the time to check this show out. It’ll cost you less than a CD, and it will stay with you a hell of a lot longer.

review to your liking? You'll sweat:

Black Mountain + Bon Iver - Middle East Upstairs (Cambridge, MA; Feb. 24, 2008)

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