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Live review: Son Volt at Antone’s
It’s always been a little difficult to get a bead on Son Volt, the alternative country band formed from the ashes of Uncle Tupelo by Jay Farrar in 1994. Partly that’s because Son Volt’s sound has covered every square inch of the territory of alt-country, from restrained folk ballads to juke joint rockers. And partly that’s because the band has undergone some pretty major shifts, from a six-year hiatus in the early part of this decade to its eventual reformation with an entirely different lineup, Farrar aside.
That quixotic — or, if you were being less generous, schizophrenic — spirit was alive and well at Antone’s Saturday night, as Farrar presented a tale of two Son Volts. One took the stage sounding tight but looking disconnected from its audience, speeding through low-key, often monotonous ballads. The other threw itself into a series of barhouse rockers with a decided energy. Fortunately, by the end of the night the stronger Son Volt had won out and reaffirmed the band’s status as a winning, if inconsistent, act.
The first half of the evening’s set was loaded with several of Son Volt’s slower, more ambling numbers. The band sounded flawless on the slow-paced “Dust of Daylight” but seemed disconnected. On “Pushed Too Far,” an angst-loaded song off this year’s “American Central Dust,” they sounded more studied than engaging. While drummer Dave Bryson pounded out his part with note-perfect energy, Farrar seemed to neglect his role as band linchpin, failing to connect with the audience. For a while — aside from the powerful licks laid down by enthusiastic lead guitarist James Walbourne — it looked like Son Volt might be upstaged by their own opener, the rollicking and very entertaining Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit. Even a song about Keith Richards’ drug habits (featuring the immortal line “I snorted my father and I’m still alive”) failed to be as amusing as it should have been.
Fortunately, Farrar and his band mates loosened up as the night wore on, leading to a more enjoyable second half that was heavier on the kind of toe-tapping rock songs that Son Volt excels at. On “No Turning Back” Bryson’s drums grew positively bone-rattling, and “Medication,” with its Indian guitar parts and furious dueling solos, was a highlight of the whole performance. Son Volt also popped on “The Search” and “Afterglow 61,” the memorable single off 2005’s “Okemah and the Melody of Riot.” Even the quieter moments — like “Big Sur,” off a Jack Kerouac-inspired collaborative album by Farrar and Ben Gibbard, of Death Cab for Cutie — took on a greater sense of urgency.
By the close of their four-song encore, Son Volt had overcome an initially underwhelming show. When bassist Andrew Duplantis took advantage of the opportunity of one last moment on stage to propose to his girlfriend (she said yes, incidentally), it felt like he — and the band — had earned their moment of celebration.
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