Last night, I turned the corner onto Westchester Avenue in Port Chester, New York, and was instantly overtaken by air of the crowd. Everyone was excited — young, old, green, ringed, etc. — who you were was irrelevant, you were there to see My Morning Jacket (@mymorningjacket).
Fronted by John McCauley, opening act Deer Tick was armed to the teeth with everything that makes their band churn — grime, disposition, spite, fender tube amps, whatever God awful cocktail they were sipping from hotel coffee cups, and not showering (that last one is assumed and not derived from fact). The Rhode Island natives ripped through a short-but-sweet set of their of blistering, off-the-cuff rock and roll anchored by ever-expanding, pajama-clad drummer Dennis Ryan and a vicious version of “Main Street”. McCauley honestly looked like he didn’t even want to be there this time, but thanks to the unsolicited encouragement from a local female admirer, he managed to squeak through the set.
Then the lights of the newly re-opened Capitol Theatre went up, and I finally took notice of what an absolutely beautiful place it is to see live music. Imagine a perfect fusion of Radio City Music Hall and the Georgia Theater, but with the sound of Brooklyn Bowl and a general admission floor section. I was masked in splendor, taking in the aesthetics, but then someone killed the lights and everyone shut up.
My Morning Jacket took the stage with such tenacity — such pure, unbridled swagger that David Bowie would have been impressed. Adorned in a black button down and blue knit poncho, Jim James walked across the stage wielding his Gibson ES-335 smiling (as he does), then turned to drummer Patrick Hallahan and started jumping up and down like a chubby, bearded pogo stick (as he does), and with no warning launched into “Heartbreakin Man”. And with that, the band’s three night residency had begun.
The Louisville, Kentucky five-piece spun throughout their entire catalog, borrowing heavily from early records The Tennessee Fire and At Dawn. They moved through staples like “The Way That He Sings,” “Magheetah” and “Off The Record”, and traded smirks as they dropped rarities like “Strangulation!” and “Cobra”. After their majestic set had wrapped up, they proceeded to play a six song encore. That’s right, six songs!
Let’s establish something before we proceed any further: Jim James is more than a frontman, he’s a genius. The man’s ability to compose a rock and roll song with personal signature is incomparable to anyone of our generation. His energy is so contagious that no soul remains unmoved, and he’s got Hallahan to turn around to every time he rocks his well dry. This is not a buzz band; this is not a next big thing. Nobody is faking anything, or trying to be anybody they aren’t. There is no chaser. My Morning Jacket have become certifiable legends, and we’re lucky that they’ve worked hard enough for us to find out who they were. Three nights. No repeats. Happy New Year, indeed.
Find tickets to their final night at the Capitol Theatre on Craigslist.
