Son Volt
9:30 Club, Washington, D.C. (September 25, 1999)
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Son Volt
9:30 Club, Washington, D.C.
September 25, 1999 |
Well, let's just say I had such a moment not that long ago, and I'll be damned if I could have predicted it.
About halfway through Son Volt's first set at D.C.'s 9:30 Club, I found myself impressed, but a little tired of singer/songwriter Jay Farrar's routine: song-after-song-after-song with little, if any, interaction with the crowd. Sure, the band was playing extremely well, and the club was -- surprisingly -- packed to the hilt. But something was missing, some fire, some chemistry that makes Son Volt a less entertaining band to watch than, say, just about anyone. Farrar has always preferred to let his music do the talking, but a simple "Hey, how ya doing" is a nice touch every now and then. And on this night, I certainly longed for something, but I'm not sure if I could really put my finger on it.
But then, it happened. And Jesus, I'm not sure if I'll ever look at Farrar in the same light ever again.
While taking the stage for the band's first encore, something was definitely afoot. A member of the opening band Continental Drifters accompanied Farrar and his cohorts -- Mike Heidorn (drums), and brothers Jim (bass) and Dave Boquist (guitars) -- to the stage. And then the band hammered out a completely re-worked version of Farrar's classic "Windfall," from the band's debut Trace. The tune was, like much of Farrar's work, slow and methodical, but it had a touch of soul that always seems to lack from his work. The crowd ate it up, perhaps the highlight of the night to this point. Then things got weird.
After the song, Farrar looked around, signaled to the band, and, true to form, launched into the next tune. After the first three notes, I started bobbing my head like I had all night, but something was a little off about this one. Something was, well, upbeat about this song. I knew it wasn't an original, and as I started to loosen up a bit, it hit me. Jesus Christ, is that The Creation? Being covered by Son Volt? No fucking way, I thought to myself. What in the hell is Farrar, the poster child for all the roots rock wierdos out there, doing covering a mod British band? But damn, it spoke volumes about Farrar, the man who says less words than a parkway toll attendant. And that was just the start.
When the band came back for its second, and final, encore, I noticed the roadies adding some mic stands to the stage. What the hell is this, I thought. Farrar is the most serious man in rock and roll, what's going on here? The band came back with additional members of the Continental Drifters and started feeling their way around the stage. Something was definitely up here. Something very weird.
And holy shit, the most unpredictable, unlikely thing happened. Farrar gave a look to the group and hit the opening notes to the Rolling Stones "Tumbling Dice." Not your typical bar room number and Son Volt nailed it. How ironic -- and fucking surreal -- to watch the most dull frontman in the business cover a Jagger/Richards classic! I nearly lost my shit.
As serious and quiet as Farrar is, the man loves music. It's his passion, his life. And just because he doesn't talk to the crowd doesn't mean he's not trying to communicate. Or have fun. Though his face never said it, you knew he was having the time of his life.
The band played for almost two hours, running through nearly two-thirds of each of Son Volt's three albums. Who knows -- maybe by just playing song-after-song, he makes sure that everyone there gets to hear their favorite song. That's a true rock and roll man.
RODEO ROB | An expert on all things "alt," Rob spends his days covering the energy industry and his nights covering the DC-area bars. Raise yer glass especially high to this man, for he has contributed to this site constantly since its creation four years ago.