Tour Dates
It wasn’t until after I had settled myself into a corner at Lola’s that I saw it, the ring of variegated plaid hovering around the lip of the stage. Forth Worth is a long way from Seattle and the grunge scene so I suspected the attire was intended to make Fleet Foxes feel at home. The show seemed scarcely advertised; it didn’t even get a listing on the band’s Myspace page. Word must have leaked out somehow though, and the myriad of attendees made me wonder where on earth people found out about the show. There was an obvious “I saw them on Letterman and Googled them” sector. I assumed the cougarish woman behind me fell into that category after overhearing their conversation with an impish adolescent. “They woke me up. They sound like a soundtrack. Don’t you think they sound like a soundtrack?” “Yeah I traveled around Europe this year (I studied abroad). I rode a lot of trains. This is good train riding music”
Fleet Foxes took the stage earlier than anticipated citing a late night drive and early load in time the next morning at the Austin City Limits festival. The sold-out venue was packed by ten so the preemption posed no problem.
I think the band was pleasantly surprised with the turnout. They candidly admitted they had tried to perform in Dallas but the town was booked solid. It seems as though DFW has become a popular, yearly pit stop for bands trekking to Austin City Limits. Perhaps that diverted attention towards our neighbors down south let this show slip through the cracks between the bigger billed bands. The band chattered amicably over the twangs of their tuning guitars about the first presidential debate that had occurred that evening. Lamenting the “lameness” of both candidates’ showing in the debate, front man Robin Pecknold declared that his band “was very concerned with politics.” Their recent release of “I Shall Be Released,” a duet with Wilco covering Bob Dylan’s 1960s tune promised free to anyone who pledges to vote in the presidential election, would seem to jive with his assertion. As if to disband any notion that the evening would continue with such elevated conversation, when Pecknold asked the crowd if it knew of any record stores in New Orleans, some punk ass kid screeched “The House of the Rising Sun!”
Though often seen sitting during performances, Pecknold stood firmly in center stage and addressed the crowd. The musicality of the live setting, void of earpieces, was refreshing; there were no fancy manipulations or techno beats this evening. In the words of the eighteen year-old behind me, “This is a spiritual experience, man. Legend.” Although numbed by the constant four part singing of my Church of Christ upbringing, Fleet Foxes’ seamless harmony stayed fresh and lively throughout the set. “White Winter Hymnal,” although greeted with the most cheers from the audience, was the night’s most cursory rendition, flowing quickly into another song. To break up the set, Pecknold sang a few solo, acoustic versions including one of “Oliver James.” When the crowd began clapping along, threatening to accelerate his pleasant pace, he lingered on a few notes to offset the imposed rhythm out of spite. The crowd fortunately took the hint and shut up.
Throughout the evening, Fleet Foxes made it clear that it was not trying to be ironically rustic or pastorally retro. They produced that music because it feels honest. Their live performance did not deviate much from the crisp, tailored sounds of their records. That clean sound was achieved through exacting craftsmanship and remarkably precise (Did I mention no earpieces?) vocals, which made it all the more pleasurable and impressive. I would certainly not pass on a chance to see them again.
mp3:
Wilco & Fleet Foxes- “I Shall Be Released” (Bob Dylan Cover)