There’s always something to do in Portland. One night you can go see Cloud Nothings play at a rundown theater behind a bar, and the next night you can go see Sharon Van Etten play in the cozy basement of the Doug Fir. In two nights you get to see a couple of the best albums of the year, all within a picturesque town experiencing its finest weather of the year.
(To the outsiders, we’ll keep up the myth of the omnipresent rain (so they won’t move here), but 1). it’s never that much, and it’s usually only part of the day and 2). the summer almost never sees rain, and it’s the perfect temperature.)
They took down the marquee before I could take a picture, so you get this.
The Doug Fir is my favorite venue in Portland: you get all the warmth and energy of a small club, but the sound system is excellent and you can hear all the necessary sonic details in perfect balance. I have yet to see even a mediocre show at the venue, and it’s been home to some of my favorites over the years, including The Walkmen, British Sea Power, Los Campesinos!, Japandroids, and The Besnard Lakes. Considering the quality of the acts that they book, my one concern is that I hope that the bands get enough of the gate that it makes their time coming out to Portland worthwhile. It feels almost selfish that I get to see such great bands play in such a compact club.
The night kicked off with a set from Jana Hunter, touring apart from her regular gig with Lower Dens. She had a decent set, augmenting 80’s synth-heavy beats (similar to those from the Drive soundtrack) provided by her laptop with heavily processed guitars (think early Jesus and Mary Chain or the most recent Dum Dum Girls record). It was a perfectly pleasant way to start the evening, with a cover of “Maneater” lifting up the crowd’s spirits in particular.
Though Van Etten’s new album is notably bleak in several places, that didn’t mean that the show was a dour affair. Sharon was both a spark and a soothing presence on stage, and in between songs she kept the mood light. There were several fun jokes with the audience, including a discussion of her favorite ice cream (it involved multiple levels of peanut butter). In other words, she was a complete delight.
Sharon Van Etten, a total delight
Sharon bounced around between several instruments, trading guitars for various keyboard instruments and alternating spots on stage with her backing band. Each member of the backing band did a great job, most notably the piano player (and Portland native!) who did excellent work in harmonizing with Sharon’s uniquely beautiful voice. The set was heavy on material from the new album, which is perfectly fine considering how outstanding it is, but it was probably Tramp standout “Serpents” that generated the largest response from the crowd. The new material sounded even better live, with some of the processed parts sounding more organic in this particular setting. The show’s climax was the same as the one on Are We There, the heartbreakingly depressing yet beautiful “Your Love Is Killing Me”, and Sharon and her band were able to wrench every bit of emotion possible from that gorgeous lament.
As I mentioned before, the evening wasn’t just one giant downer. It helped with Sharon’s jokes between songs, like “here’s another total bummer song”, said in a playful manner, or when she debuted a new song, an outtake from Are We There called “I Always Fall Apart”*, she made sure to mention that it didn’t aaalways happen. The night ended on a cheerful note, as the last song was the light-hearted “Every Time The Sun Comes Up”, punctuated by comical pantomimes from Sharon. Though I wish we could have heard some of my old favorites like “Warsaw” or “Magic Chords”, Sharon did more than enough to entertain the crowd in advance of the holiday weekend, and helped solidify the greatness of her new album with her excellent show. Also, she succeeded in making me totally want to hang out with her.
*Not sure if this was the exact song title, since my memory is a little faded from last week (and Google is of no help), but it was along those lines.