Last
night I was at Terminal West to see Son
Volt. Terminal, one of the best
small venues in Atlanta
Son Volt is the brain child of Jay Farrar and was formed in 1994 after the demise of Uncle Tupelo. Uncle
Tupelo, in my opinion is one of the most important bands in the last (30) years. These mid-western kids drew inspiration from
their environment, the country and rockabilly music they heard all around them,
the punk and garage rock they loved and put it all together into a singular
package – they effectively created a new genre of music that would come to be
known as Alternative Country. If you
don’t know Jay, you might know the guy he co-founded Uncle Tupelo with, Jeff Tweedy. Tweedy created Wilco after UT broke up
and continues to make great music. Of
the two though, I pick Son Volt every
time. If you’re not familiar with
anything I just said, I strongly suggest you do some homework – there is a
wealth of wonderful music that came out of that mid-90s scene that is truly
original. Jayhawks, Golden Smog, Bottle Rockets, Robbie Fulks, Old 97s
just to name a few.
The
opening band Colonel Ford (the
members of SV sans Farrar) was absolute Honky Tonk gold and
set the table perfectly for what would follow.
Having
never seen Son Volt live I wasn’t
sure what to expect and I have admittedly lost track of what they have been up
to the last several years. With the
first chords I knew I was in for a treat.
When I heard Jay’s first vocal I was stunned. It sounded even better live than
recorded. His voice is hard to describe
– it’s a weird monotone but is at the same time extremely emotive. I’ve always said and still believe that he
could sing the phone book and I would love it.
His
stage presence is a little odd. It’s
almost apologetic. I got the feeling
watching him that he almost didn’t want to be there or at least he was
uncomfortable in the spotlight. He seems
to be a reluctant artist; rarely spoke directly to the audience, hardly opened
his eyes it seemed. What he lacks in
charisma is well overshadowed by the music though. It’s not about him at all – he is simply the
conduit through which this incredible music must flow to be heard. He doesn’t really have a choice.
As
I watched the night unfold, I became at some point aware of the magnitude of
this show for me. It finally occurred to
me that I was in the same room with the co-founder of Uncle Tupelo. Not sure why I
didn’t connect the dots prior to but when I did it became suddenly overwhelming
and I felt even more obligated to be conscious of every detail. (Yes, I’m well aware that I place too much
importance on music, but that’s who I am.)
The
lyrical value of his music is staggering.
Every word is just as important as the next and they all combine to
express an emotional profundity that I have rarely seen in other
musicians. The beauty of this is that
it’s delivered very simply and understated, just like Farrar. Also, just like Farrar there is as much or
more depth in what is not said. The
stories in the songs are intensely personal, often dark but there is enough space in the
structure of the lyrics to allow you to fill in the gaps with your own emotion,
your own story. That’s an incredibly
complex way of writing but the results can’t be disputed. His music holds up over time. It doesn’t feel dated because there’s really
nothing else like it to compare it to.
I sat down to write about the show but I don't think I have. I don’t think I can. Some things cannot be described in words: they can only be experienced. That’s exactly what last night was. To experience Windfall and Tear Stained Eye and Drown and all of the rest of these songs live was a rare and frankly unexpected gift that I will cherish for a long time.
Well
done, Mr. Farrar, I was completely blown away.
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