by Sideshow
This was the first Mountain Goats show that I’ve ever been to.
(Wait. That’s not entirely true. Let’s start this again.)
This was the first time I remember being at a Mountain Goats show. Don’t know why I can’t recollect the first one I went to. Must have been that quesadilla at EAT.
In either case, it’s a real shame I don’t remember the first one, but one would be hard pressed to argue that anything could have topped this show that John Darnielle and Peter Hughes put on. There are two things that really stood out to me about the show: first, how incredibly percussive The Mountain Goats’ music is despite not having a drummer for their live shows; and second, how great a performer/showman Darnielle is. Whether he screamed at a window-piercing decibal or whispered at a barely audible level, whether his words were jarring and visceral or delicate and lonely, Darnielle held the audience in rapt attention.
They opened with a version of “Wild Sage” that was so minimal and quiet I almost thought that Darnielle’s guitar was turned off. Turns out, it was. It was not until after the song that he informed the tech guys that the input had died. This allowed a hilarious exchange between Darnielle and Hughes, with the former informing us that the latter was “unquestionably the best bassist in indie rock.” As Hughes pointed out, this was quite a backhanded compliment.
Perhaps feeling that after one quiet song and some banter the show had commenced on an awkward foot, the Goats proceeded to rock out on some old and well known tracks. “Color in Your Cheeks” got the whole crowd chanting and chugging, and “Broom People” was sparse and stunning even without the piano that drives the melody on the record. “Dance Music” proved to be one of those songs that gets even the most stoic and clever hipster to give an ass-shake or two. I’m pretty sure that I saw more high-fives at the begining of the song than at an entire AC/DC concert.
People were starting to freak out and Darnielle picked up on this quickly, egging the crowd on to an absolute frenzy: “I absolutely fuckin’ love you guys.” “This is best crowd I’ve seen all year.” Then: “If I ever forget Cambridge, I hope I perish from God’s great earth”, and with his eyes afire, glasses off, and sweat dripping from every pore, Darnielle ripped into the familiar riff of “This Year”. It may have not been the first mosh pit at a Mountain Goats show, but it certainly was the most loving and joyous I’ve even been a part of. With the crowd knowing every word and clapping along to every beat, you could see the pure joy of being on stage through Darnielle’s expression. Pure unadulterated joy. I suppose when you are able to get 300 indie kids jumping, clapping, and singing “I can feel the alcohol inside of me hum!”, I would be awfully fucking excited too.
For the oncore, Darnielle took off his guitar strap, un-hooked the microphone and did a R. Kelly-style version of Nothing Painted Blue’s “Houseguest”, which may in fact be the funniest/disturbing song I’ve ever heard. Introducing the last song of the night, Darnielle noted with a genuine smile that “somewhere, at sometime, all of you will experience what goes on in this song. I wish it didn’t, but it will so you might as well be fucking prepared for it.” We were not, however, prepared for “No Children”. It’s hard to describe the electricity that went through the crowd during the song, but we all knew something special was happening. A song that was rarely played live, plus a crowd that was as amped as I’d ever seen equaled a glorious ending to the show.
The end-of-the-show music started, the crowd filed away from the stage, rubbing their faces in disbelief and trying to etch the details of the last few songs in their brains. I sat down on the stage to collect myself and let the crowd thin out before I left. Thirty seconds later, Darnielle ran back on stage to grab his notebook that he’d forgotten. As we all give one last cheer of approval, one guy in the back said “He’s playing one more song!!” Of course, he wasn’t. But as 300 indie kids wheeled around and rushed back to the stage, Darnielle looked caught off guard. “Well, I suppose I can’t come out here and not play another song.” He genuinely looked like he didn’t want to disapoint us.
He picked up a guitar and started to strum a few chords, and said “I wrote this song on Christmas Day of 1994″. Sensing that we were witnessing something really epic, Darnielle calmly deadpanned: “The most remarkable thing about coming home to you is the feeling of being in motion again.”
Yes. It was “Going to Georgia”. And no, none of us were ready to go home after that.
October 16, 2006 at 2:40 pm
I hate you. So Much.
*Hugs Sideshow*