Everything about Dawes’ live show blows away their recordings. At the Black Cat Monday night, they were barbed but somehow intimate, loose but steady, familiar yet also fresh. It was easy to see why they had packed the place with a cadre of devoted followers ready to swoon and sing along (sometimes both at the same time).
On Dawes albums, bits of songs sound like great songs that exist deep in your brain—harmonies from the Grateful Dead, The Band’s cheeky shuffle, story-telling like Paul Simon, guitar pyrotechnics from Neil Young. But in live performance, the songs take on a life entirely of their own.
Lead singer Taylor Goldsmith’s voice plays a large part in the poignancy of their live performance. He is a remarkably versatile singer, and more willing to throw his voice around on stage than in the studio. Commanding, Goldsmith can swing sweetly or drop to a low growl, sometimes joining with the drummer’s endearing croak and the keyboardist’s croon for pretty three-part harmonies.
Dawes’ slower tunes are their best (though the speedier, thumping “When My Time Comes,” appeared to be the crowd’s favorite out of a whole slew of favorites). “Western Skyline” was transformed into a beautiful piece of blue-eyed R&B, complete with soulful wails. Goldsmith played a spare lead guitar, which allowed the keyboard and rhythm section plenty of space—sometimes the guitar buried the organ, so it was good to hear them all working in unison.
“If I Wanted Someone” was also strong, with filthy solos on the guitar and the organ (the piano/organ player looks like a cross between Ryan Gosling, and I don’t know, Robert E. Lee). The harmonies were perfect, and towards the end of the tune, almost all the instruments dropped away, leaving only the naked voices repeating “I want you to make the days move easy.” This gorgeous, simple repetition is not present on the recorded version of the song, and I wish it was—it made my day a whole lot easier.
After Dawes’ surprisingly emotional opening, Blitzen Trapper seemed solid but unremarkable. On their harder songs, they moved from singing to exploding with such regularity that sometimes it all blended together. Songs from their two best albums, Wild Mountain Nation and Furr, were still good, but tunes from their most recent two albums struggled to recapture that weird magic. They didn’t establish the same intimate connection with the crowd, and I was surprised to see some Dawes fans leaving.
