Embrace Today – We are the Enemy

Since its inception in 2001, Embrace Today has worked relentlessly to spread the word about the band, touring with an arrangement of bands including Bleeding Through and Champion. It isn’t really all that hard to see why, as the sound is the middle ground between the energy of old-school hardcore and the rhythmic bombast of metalcore.

We Are the Enemy is the follow up to 2003′s Soldiers and is precisely where I thought the band would be. These guys have matured a bit, tightened the screws in the songwriting department, and added even more stuttered rhythms. Not to say that the album is predictable, this is just logically where I figured these guys were heading.

“Sing Me a Lullaby” and “The Immortal” are perfect examples of the slightly more metalcore tinged sound with a few breakdowns and an overall chunkier feel than in the past. “Bullets Over Boston” sounds like it could have come off Soldiers, with a sound based more in a traditional hardcore aesthetic.

Although this album is a step up, I’m still not totally convinced by Embrace Today. It is a decent enough band, but it isn’t doing anything I haven’t heard hundreds of times before. Note that if you are wary of straight-edge rhetoric, it would be in your best interests to stay away from this one. I once saw these guys live, and the singer said “If you are smoking a cigarette right now, fuck you!” I respect straight edge, and I certainly hate second-hand smoke as much as the next guy, but why alienate your fans like that?

Isis – Oceanic Remixes / Reinterpretations

Ahhhhh yes, the remix record. I’ve seen so many of these things come and go in my time as a record collecting nerd. I think the remix record is one of those bizzare additions to an artists’ catalog that seems like an appropriate purchase only for diehard fans in most cases. Most of the time, the remix record can be a chance to hear one or two really cool interpretations of a band’s songs accompanied by many lackluster attempts to make something more interesting than the original composition. One need only take a look at The Locust’s Well I’ll Be a Monkey’s Uncle or the recent Bjork Army of Me remix record to see just how bad these projects can get. At least Isis’ Oceanic Remixes/Reinterpretations has more than just one song being remixed over and over and over again.

Hydra Head originally released this material as a series of four extremely limited LPs, but now you can own it all on one convenient disc. At least Oceanic was chosen to be the target of all the remixing. This record was, in the opinion of many critics (myself included), the single best record released so far by the band. While some of the remixes on this collection showcase and even improve upon the energy contained in the originals, others fall completely far from the mark. One of the main problems I have with this collection is that it is presented as a two-disc set. I understand that, in order to contain all of the tracks from the four LP set, it probably had to be this way, but in all earnesty it could have been one disc. Cutting out the crap would have been a difficult decision for the Hydra Head crew or the members of the band, as I’m sure that there is a special relationship between them and some of the individuals/groups doing the remixing. For example, Mike Patton contributes one of the weakest remixes here, yet he is responsible for releasing the last two Isis records on his Ipecac label.

The first disc begins with what is one of the best efforts put forth on the disc, Fennesz’ remix of “Weight.” Christian Fennesz turns this Isis track into a sine wave signal fluctuating and crackling with the same intensity often found in his own works. Also contained on disc one are Tim Hecker’s first interpretation of “Carry” and James Plotkin of Atomsmasher/Phantomsmasher fame’s rendition of “The Other.” Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on your particular preference for the man himself), Mike Patton ends this disc with a goofy take on “Maritime” with himself singing over the top of a disjointed version of the Isis track.

Disc two is mostly terrible. Venetian Snares’ take on “The Beginning and the End” (one of my personal favorite Isis songs) turns the lock-groove chugging and thrash of the original into a cheesy drum-and-bass techno workout. DJ Speedranch’s remix of “Carry” on this disc is also probably the worst track from the whole project. Disc two’s redeeming quality is ultimately the coup de grace of the last track: Justin K. Broadrick from Godflesh and Jesu turning “Hym” into a much more powerful effort than the original even. Broadrick stretches the song so thin, and yet the muscle retained is the absolute essential essence that pushes the song over the edge. After listening to this track, I urge you to go out and pick up the Pelican March into the Sea single just to get his remix of “Angel Tears” from that band’s Australasia LP.

Oceanic Remixes/Reinterpretations is one of those records that is about 50% awesome and 50% suck. I wish I could give you some kind of definite answer here, but you really need to listen to it to decide whether the good outweighs the bad. I didn’t pay for this thing, so to me, the good tracks are well enough to warrant keeping it. I don’t know if I’d shell out the cash to hear maybe four or five cool remixes of these Isis songs, but if you are a huge Isis fan then I’d say you already bought it.

Matt Ruby – I Never Do This Sort of Thing

Matt Ruby, ex-frontman of a band called Plastics Hi-Fi, makes his solo debut with I Never Do This Sort of Thing. It’s a solo album in the truest sense, as Ruby performs and produces all 10 tracks on his own. Ruby has a smorgasboard of influences, from new-wave to punk to arena rock to dance, and I Never Do This Sort of Thing never really resolves all of them.

His vapid lyrics don’t help, either, clunking along awkwardly on familiar ground: girls, booze, anxieties, etc. (A sample from the title track: “Sha la la, she’s kinda drunk, she’s kinda stoned / says she really should be going home”). Some of the songs skew a little darker (“Stick your faith into a noose and kick the chair away,”) but don’t really say anything coherent. Ruby tells moods, not stories, shows stand-ins, not characters.

Ruby tries to kick these songs into high gear, sometimes with Replacements-like riffs and sometimes new-wave tricks. It’s an admirable effort, but it’s never convincing. It seems like what he wants to do most of all is rock out, and he probably should. Weak lyrics can always be saved by killer hooks. Left to fend for themselves, though, they drown.

Kanye West – Late Registration

Ever since hip-hop began as the manifestation of the frustration brewing on crime-ridden and poverty-stricken streets, it has played the role of the ugly stepchild to rock in the mainstream. Obviously, the mainstream has recently fully embraced hip-hop as a marketing phenomenon, granting the genre full musical legitimacy in the process. However, no rapper has achieved the same level of universal, cross-cultural acceptance of, say, the Beatles – until now. Kanye West long ago conquered such musical outlets as MTV and Rolling Stone, but with the release of his sophomore album, Late Registration, he has taken an even bigger bite out of the market. After making the cover of Time Magazine, Kanye has received widespread positive reviews in such diverse arenas as USA Today (receiving a perfect four out of four possible stars) and, yes, even DOA (receiving a non-enumerated glowing review).

The fact that Kanye has achieved widespread success with the MTV crowd is not remarkable; that he has done so with enough tact, inventiveness, and intelligence as to garner the respect of the disparate indie and black-suit crowds surely is. Kanye has always been a notable hybrid: part backpack producer, part charismatic MC, and part artist (in the old-fashioned sense of the word). West has thus far delivered an impressively consistent product that appeals simultaneously to those looking for a good time and brightly-colored music videos and to those looking for innovation and substance.

Interestingly, though he has flirted with the extremes, West has yet to tread too heavily in blatant misogyny and unapologetic glorification of crime (though the “I’ll be gone to November / I’ve got packs to move” line in “Jesus Walks” came close), instead coming up with either more personal or more creative subject matter. The resultant rhymes are sometimes dirty, often brilliant, and always witty. The duality of fervent self-aggrandizement with the occasional self-loathing that most famously characterizes indie hip-hop also makes for frequently interesting interactions among songs and albums, and this is perhaps one of the footholds on which indie hip-hop fans can situate affection for the man.

The album itself is more accomplished, if not necessarily better, than 2004’s The College Dropout. “Heard ‘em Say” immediately distinguishes Late Registration as a very un-mainstream album: bouncing percussion underlies a fluttering piano melody. That’s it. No huge bass, no buzzing Lil’ Jon synths, nothing. After a brief rumination on discrimination by West, the hook is sung by – of all people – Adam Levine of Maroon 5 fame. The move is a subtle appreciation of the dynamic truth of the problem, and what easily could have become a black-pride parade turns instead into a brief and extremely effective song. “We Major,” at an audacious seven and a half minutes, predictably cashes in on the “told-you-so”-inducing success of Kanye’s confident debut without actually being dull. The beat sounds remarkably like something MF Doom would concoct on albums like MM…Food?, all cheesy horns and skipping drums. “Drive Slow,” a slow-mo jazz number, features a curious guest spot by Paul Wall. The man who brought us “Sittin’ Sideways” delivers a breathtaking performance, rising to the challenge of rapping alongside one of Kanye’s best verses. The highlight of the track is when Wall blurts: “A young Houston hard-hitter all about the skrilla / ridin’ some candy-coated crawler like a caterpillar” in one breath. Incredible.

One of the strongest points of The College Dropout was its singles; “Through the Wire,” “All Falls Down,” and “Jesus Walks” were all potential single-of-the-year candidates last year. Thus far, “Diamonds (from Sierra Leone)” and “Gold Digger” keep the bar high. “Gold Digger” in particular is an ingenious song incorporating Jamie Foxx’s best Ray Charles impression into the beat. The song showcases Kanye’s razor-sharp wit and new-and-improved flow; West rides the beat flawlessly. Like all the best pop singles, “Gold Digger” drills itself into your head and festers, refusing to leave until you play the song at least a dozen more times.

In the end, though Late Registration is far from perfect (“Celebration” is, in every respect, an awful song), it showcases a Kanye West that has managed to improve on last year’s stellar debut. He wisely avoids the ubiquitous chipmunk-soul vocals, which had become dangerously close to becoming Kanye’s most distinguishable asset, and instead finds a more nuanced production style, replete with more diverse instrumentation and more layered beats. This is, no doubt, creditable to producer Jon Brion, who lent his indie sensibilities to the Louis Vitton Don. And this time, instead of highlighting Roc-a-Fella’s insecurity in their investment by loading the album down with as many other rappers as possible, the guest spots supplement his excellent flow with equally excellent visitors (see: Jay-Z, Cam’Ron, Common, Paul Wall, and The Game). The result is remarkably consistent and almost infinitely enjoyable. Fans of music of any kind should at least investigate Late Registration; you might just find out what all the hype is about.

Doug Hoekstra – Six Songs EP

Few singer/songwriters have the drive and ability to release two records in the same year. Fewer still can do so without throwing quality control out the window. Nashville-based singer/songwriter Doug Hoekstra is among a small group of artists with two releases to his name this year already, and surprisingly (or not, if you’re familiar with Hoekstra’s back catalogue), both are consistently engaging. Hoekstra has followed up his first release of the year, the live album Su Casa Mi Casa: The Official Live Bootleg, with Six Songs, a charming EP of understated folk-rock. Featuring Hoekstra’s most endearing traits, Six Songs serves as both a successful sampler for newcomers and tide-me-over snack for devotees until his next full-length album.

Hoekstra is an English-major’s songwriter. His compositions are often long, cinematic, and loquacious. On Six Songs, Hoekstra’s tales are set to modest tunes, with understated, back-to-the-basics arrangements. The songs center on the acoustic guitar but frequently contain light percussion and electric guitar and occasionally feature female vocal harmonies. At his finest, Hoekstra evokes Lou Reed in the post-John Cale-era Velvet Underground. Lyrically, Hoekstra is more direct and verbose than Reed, but the two men share a similar, spoken-word style of singing. In addition, the best arrangements on Six Songs recall the graceful simplicity of the Velvet’s third LP. The accessible instrumentation helps push Hoekstra’s lyrics to the forefront where they demand listeners’ attention.

There is no overarching, unifying theme to the lyrical content on Six Songs, but many of the songs oscillate between tones of regretful acceptance and quietly optimistic determination. Six Songs opens with “Diminishing Returns,” a melodic number ostensibly lamenting the “diminishing returns” of life – from each individual’s sob story (“I’ve looked into eyes sympathetically / While tears began to fall) to Hoekstra’s own underappreciated status in the music world (“We’re so far under the radar / We’ve been crawling on the ocean floor / There are days when I ask myself / What all of this was for”). Yet “Diminishing Returns” also has a hopeful undercurrent and calm resolve (“There are times when we must talk / And other times when we must act … There may be twists and there may be turns / Beyond the land of diminishing returns”).

Elsewhere, “Snake Oil,” a sparse, finger-picked ballad, is a powerful statement against the war in Iraq. Hoekstra cleverly uses salesmen in western towns who once sold potions of eternal youth as a metaphor for the way the government deceptively sold fear to the American people to galvanize support for the war in Iraq. “Fear is a mighty potion / It can make folks look for blame / In their brothers and their sisters / While the pitchmen slip away,” Hoekstra sings. “Snake Oil” evokes no optimism about American foreign policy but is somewhat joyful in that it marks one of the first truly poetic musical critiques of the war. As Hoekstra so artfully demonstrates, music still has the power to be a vehicle for compelling political commentary if its creators can appreciate the difference between poetry and shallow ad hominem attacks.

While the beginning of the record is somber, Six Songs closes with two pieces that inject love and optimism into the overall tone of the record. “Picture of the Soul” is a mid-tempo gem that celebrates the new perspective on life Hoekstra gained from having a son. “My newborn son came to me / His eyes were open, I could plainly see / He was cast right out of time,” Hoekstra sings. “There never was a time / He is young and somehow old / And there never will be a century / Where he will cease to be / He changed for me, my picture of the soul.” The finale, “Watercolor Rose,” is a beautiful dose of nostalgia that traces Hoekstra through childhood and a college romance against a backdrop of finger-picked guitar and breezy French horn.

Rarely are Hoekstra’s lyrics less than poetic. Yet Hoekstra’s lyrics are not simply poetry, they are words set to music – and when he falters as a writer it appears to be because of inadequate attention to this aspect of his work. Occasionally Hoekstra awkwardly jams too many syllables into a phrase, which detracts from the simple elegance of his melodies. This, however, is a mere foible. If it detracts from Hoekstra’s compositions, it also tantalizes listeners with the prospect of even better things to come from this already potent and accomplished troubadour.

The Makers – Everybody Rise!

Holy shit, it’s the Makers! Hide your impressionable young children and lock up your daughters! Yes folks, this is rock and roll, pure and unadorned and coming in straight from those strange, heady days when the term was synonymous with such archaic concepts like “danger” and “rebellion.” Sure, the Makers’ shtick is neither new nor innovative, but they always brought something to the table that many other Johnny-come-latelies and me-too garage revivalists often lacked: namely, conviction and the utter belief that whatever they were doing, they must undoubtedly be the first to have come upon it.

Now, I know this sounds like a whole bunch of hyperbole, but let me tell you – anyone that saw the Makers in their prime, bludgeoning their way through legions of unsuspecting club-goers with nothing but sheer attitude and snotty charm, knows exactly what I’m talking about. They were a revelatory live experience, and they made believers out of any given audience by the end of the night, churning out their beer-fueled, smoke-stained anthems with the driving fury of men possessed. And even when they began to stray from their garage-punk roots, wandering into the operatic glam-rock territory once ruled by Ziggy and his ilk, they remained hungry, fierce, and undeniably sexy – even if some of the songs did suck.

The Makers are still just as ravenous on their latest release, Everybody Rise!; however, the album also serves as a showcase for tighter song structures and – surprise, surprise! – a startling fondness for good old-fashioned pop. Sure, songs like the opening track “Matter of Degrees” and the scorching “She Walks in Color” show that the boys can still kick out the jams; however, jaws everywhere are sure to drop after the first few bars of the sunny acoustic in “Run with Me Tonight,” and longtime fans will probably faint in shock after hearing the peppy piano accompaniment and harmonized (!) chorus. I’m sorry, was that Mike Maker just singing “ba ba ba ba ba”? Is someone in the background “ooh ooh ooooooooh”ing? Ladies and gentlemen, the world as we know is most likely about to end. Please take cover.

All facetiousness aside, the direction that the Makers take in Everybody Rise! is welcome, and it’s a natural extension of their chosen muse ever since they jumped ship from Estrus. The songs are decidedly more developed, and even their rockers show a degree of maturity that was often lacking from their earlier works. Tracks like “It Takes a Mighty Heart” and “The Story of You and I” are straight-ahead rock-pop gems ripped straight from the mid-70s Rolling Stones’ playbook (with M. Maker doing a rather passable Jagger impersonation), while others (like the aforementioned “Run with Me Tonight” and the similarly structured “Ordinary Human Love”) display an unexpected aptitude for writing catchy melodies copped straight from late-60s FM pop radio. I suppose none of this should be too surprising; after all, one can only pursue Stooges-esque proto-punk for so long before you start looking a little silly. Don’t get me wrong, all the pomp and strut is still there in spades, but it’s tempered by a finer appreciation for proper song craft. Consequently, while some of the frantic energy of their earlier work has been lost (especially with the super-glossy production applied to the recording), the actual songs themselves have been improved a hundred times over.

The Makers are a band that either befuddles you or strikes you with crystal clarity. And admittedly, Everybody Rise! won’t convert those that are already ambivalent to them, while long-time fans might feel alienated by the hi-fi production and the fact that you can actually understand what M. Maker is singing. But it’s still a damn good album, and none of the conviction of their earlier work is lost; if anything, it seems like it’d be even harder to convince the Makers that they didn’t single-handedly invent rock and roll. Everybody Rise is a gloriously anachronistic burst of good ol’ fashioned American guitar rock, and it’s especially refreshing in comparison to the Factory-produced Anglophiles that litter today’s cultural radar. Sure, it’s obviously derivative, and some of it admittedly borders on clichéd melodrama, but play it loud enough and none of that will really seem to matter.

Various Artists – Blues Masters Volume 8: Mississippi Delta Blues

Monday morning, when the first accounts of the devastating hurricane that rocked Louisiana, Mississippi, and Alabama filtered in, after gratefully learning my relatives were safe, my shallow thoughts turned to my one true obsession – music. “Is Clarksdale, MS – legendary home of Muddy Waters – ok? What about Hank Williams’ birthplace in Mount Olive, Al? And will New Orleans – hometown of Louis Armstrong, Fats Domino, and Huey P. Smith (author of “Sea Cruise,” possibly the greatest song of all-time) recover?” I wondered.

After spending the remainder of the week glued to the horror and destruction being carried out live on my television set and digging through my collection of classic country and blues records, I found the one recording that I felt really came closest to summing up the plight of being poor and broken in the deep south (not that anyone who hasn’t experienced it first-hand could know) better than any – the Mississippi Delta Blues volume of Rhino Records’ epic anthology Blues Masters. Released in 1993, Mississippi Delta Blues highlights 18 tracks from the 1920s to the 1960s. Each song lives and breathes the depression, poverty, jealousy, overwork, alcoholism, racism, and all-around misery of the region and time-period in raw detail. The collection is filled with all the major names like Robert Johnson, Muddy Waters, Howlin’ Wolf, Elmore James, Sonny Boy Williamson, B.B. King, and Albert King, as well as lesser knowns (but just as important) artists like Tommy Johnson, Charley Patton, Son House, and Robert Nighthawk.

Mississippi Delta Blue is split down the middle between acoustic and electric, much like the crossroads that separates the haves and have-nots in this country. Charley Patton’s gravel voice (which predates Howlin’ Wolf by 25 years) on “Rattlesnake Blues” and Son House’s tale of escaping the cotton fields on “Preachin’ the Blue” are certainly high points on the acoustic country-blues section. The Voodoo-inspired trinity of Tommy Johnson’s “Big Road Blues,” Floyd Jones’ “Dark Road,” and Robert Johnson’s 1937 classic “Cross Road Blues,” however, are some of the darkest and scariest moments ever put to wax.

Muddy Waters’ chronicle of Northern migration gone bad, “I Feel Like Goin’ Home,” and the harmonica wailing of Howlin’ Wolf’s “Sitting on Top of the World” are some of the best electric moments on Mississippi Delta Blues, but the finest moment on the disc is reserved for Elmore James’ 1960 single “Something Inside Me.” Behind a slow, sad slide guitar and a soulful vocal that almost makes Otis Redding sound like Michael McDonald, Elmore James tells a tale of loneliness and a search for a reason to even get up in the morning in heart-wrenching detail.

Listening to this CD won’t make the ravage of Hurricane Katrina disappear. It won’t feed a starving baby or heal a sick grandma. And it won’t make our government care about its people any more than it currently does. But it will serve as a small window into the kind of hopelessness and frustration that produced some of the most influential music in American history, as well as display the need to not let this historically rich region die due to a natural disaster and governmental neglect.

Premonitions of War – Split CD

Well, this certainly is an interesting predicament! I have always wanted to know what Benumb sounds like, and here we are. I wish I could say that I think it is great but … yeah … I don’t think so. I’m just going to get the Premonitions of War stuff out of the way and then we’ll talk about Benumb.

First I’d like to comment on the fact that I think this split is pretty poorly produced. Now, I’m all about some lo-fi grind sometimes, but for metallic grindcore, when the production values are bad things start to sound like mud. Unfortunately, that is what we’ve got here, for both bands too I might add. So it isn’t very helpful that Premonitions of War does the whole techy metal grind thing and you can’t really tell what the hell the guitarists are trying to do because it sounds like a big pile of BLAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!!!!

Benumb is no better. I had heard some older Benumb stuff that I thought was pretty decent, but this is fairly different from that. It sounds like a more redneck version of Spazz. The vocals bring to mind old-school style hardcore bands like Better Than a Thousand and Strife. Why? Why? Why? The music is similar in style to Pig Destroyer or Charles Bronson. If only the vocals sounded like what I remember Benumb sounding like. I’d take Cookie Monster vocals over this.

Anyway, I guess it goes without saying that I wouldn’t recommend this record. I mean if you like 1988-style hardcore and you like grind then maybe this might be okay. I’d be willing to give both these bands another shot. As I stated before, I remember Benumb being a whole lot better than the stuff on this split. Premonitions of War isn’t bad either. If the production on this record was even a little better, providing for some definition, then I’d say there is some promise.

Beck – Guero

More than a decade since “Loser” and Mellow Gold brought his name to the masses, Beck remains a critics’ darling, releasing dynamic albums that sometimes seem to get too many easy compliments from the writers. Nonetheless, for his latest album, Guero, Beck genuinely deserves the glowing feedback he has received. Guero is Beck’s most enjoyable long-player because it doesn’t pretend to be more than what it is: a fun collection of disparate, delicious songs. With its blend of genres and moods, Guero flows like a mix album put together by a walking, breathing music encyclopedia for a select group of friends.

The first track and lead-off single, “E-Pro,” has crunching guitars and pounding drums that surround Beck’s military-like vocal efficiency. This thunderous opener also benefits from a sample of Beastie Boys’ “So What’cha Want.” Some of the tracks on Guero find Beck in more of a rap mode, and his reunion with The Dust Brothers as producers surely has a lot to do with “Qué Onda Guero” and “Hell Yes” recalling the early 90s work of Young MC, another artist who collaborated with The Dust Brothers. While “Qué Onda Guero” features urban Spanish elements, “Hell Yes” makes attractive use of a vocoder and female pleas.

Guero changes pace across most of its songs, but the track progression is never jarring. Beck smoothly moves from “Qué Onda Guero” to the basic, youthful 70s pop of “Girl.” He digs into the classics and combines a sample of the Brazilian “Voce e Eu” with strings on the sexy “Missing.” Frequent Beastie Boys contributor Money Mark plays his slinky, swirling organ to perfection on the buoyant, quirky “Earthquake Weather.” This song is another opportunity for Beck to demonstrate his excellent taste in choosing the right sample; “Earthquake Weather” fuses The Temptations and Slave with a 21st century recording.

The second half of Guero is more subdued and benefits from beautiful, quieter compositions by Beck. On “Broken Drum,” he plays all of the instruments and envelopes his gorgeous, melancholic voice with slow piano and sporadic strumming of his acoustic guitar. The lyrics match the stark melody: “I see you there / Your long black hair / Your eyes just stair / Your mind is turning / You know I’ll laugh / And I won’t take it back / I’ve seen your eyes / I know what you’re thinking.” Beck discusses death and burial in a southern style through the grinding “Farewell Ride” and closes Guero with religious references in the country-fried “Emergency Exit.”

Guero is an album of multiple appeals; it calms, invigorates, rhythmically guides a party, and serves as a warm aural backdrop for urban commutes and country drives. Beck and his companions have crafted an eclectic mix of sounds and images, drawing inspiration from various decades and styles. Guero should earn Beck new fans and significantly impress even devoted listeners of the past dozen years.

Chatham County Line – Philadelphia – Rittenhouse Square, PA – 2005-08-24

When I heard North Carolina band Chatham County Line would be planning a free show in Rittenhouse Square I couldn’t have been happier. I’ve been hooked on the group’s recent release, Route 23, for a while now, and I’m certainly not one to pass up a free show featuring a band I like. The show was part of the Philadelphia Weekly’s summertime Concerts in the Park series, which oddly enough I had never heard of despite living in this area for the past 12 years.

For those not from the Philadelphia area, Rittenhouse Square is city block-sized park surrounded by some of Philadelphia’s most expensive houses and apartments. The park sees all sorts of people passing through on a daily basis, from the wealthy residents to the homeless and every type of person in between. Lots of folks come here to picnic, paint, people watch, and just relax – and the night of Chatham County Line’s performance was no exception.

Unfortunately, due to traffic and lack of parking in the area, my husband and I arrived late. I’m guessing I missed just the first few songs, but my husband (the one doomed to drive in circles for an hour) missed the whole thing. What I did see of Chatham County Line’s set was superb. As I had heard, the foursome plays around a single microphone with everyone singing. They treated the crowd to some new material as well as plenty of songs from their first album and gems like “Engine No. 79” from their second disc.

Chatham County Line also covered a Jimmy Rogers tune and snuck in at least one of the instrumentals from Route 23. Although the crowd wasn’t particularly lively – I’m imagining most folks there weren’t familiar with the group – the band still put on a great show. The great harmonies and all around stellar musicianship found on their recordings were amply present in their live show, which only furthered my interest in the quartet. I hope to see Chatham County Line plays in the area again soon, but this time in a more structured venue without tons of screaming children running around.

Due to the ill-fated parking situation, I left just as headliners The Avett Brothers took stage. The strains of their music I heard as I walked away were very much in the same vein as Chatham County Line, but unfortunately that’s about all I heard. Despite the mishaps, of the evening it was well worth venturing out to the park to see Chatham County Line play, and I couldn’t have been more pleased with their set.

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