Experience Portland in Paris, is how la Blogothèque advertised M. Ward’s concert at La Gaité Lyrique this past Friday. It isn’t hard to see why when the venue is a converted theater built in 1862, the bar an opulent Haussmmanian reception hall, and the concert a man on stage with his acoustic guitar singing the epitome of music proper to America: country. There’s more to it, of course. M. Ward at times uses a harmonica or switches to the keyboard; his songs are also colored with the weight of blues and the edge to rock.
Still, M. Ward is above all guy-on-guitar music that evokes a very different, simpler setting – one of campfires and cowboy boots, lawn chairs and hand-rolled tobacco. What isn’t so simple, however, is the way this Oregonian manipulates his instrument. Opening his show with a medley of “One Hundred Million Years,” Ward saved his distinctive scruffy singing for the songs to follow. But under the dance of Ward’s fingers, voice was given to his guitar as it alternatively whispered and choked, became feverish or impatient with emotion.
Country is distinctive of the South, not the West Coast where M. Ward is from. But to those music fanatic foreigners who have only a romanticized conception of Portland – a granola-eating, peace & love place that breeds a surprising number of talented, alternative musicians – the purity and timeless quality of M. Ward’s music embodies just that.
Still, M. Ward is above all guy-on-guitar music that evokes a very different, simpler setting – one of campfires and cowboy boots, lawn chairs and hand-rolled tobacco. What isn’t so simple, however, is the way this Oregonian manipulates his instrument. Opening his show with a medley of “One Hundred Million Years,” Ward saved his distinctive scruffy singing for the songs to follow. But under the dance of Ward’s fingers, voice was given to his guitar as it alternatively whispered and choked, became feverish or impatient with emotion.
Country is distinctive of the South, not the West Coast where M. Ward is from. But to those music fanatic foreigners who have only a romanticized conception of Portland – a granola-eating, peace & love place that breeds a surprising number of talented, alternative musicians – the purity and timeless quality of M. Ward’s music embodies just that.
No comments:
Post a Comment