Photos by Matt Kelley
“Big” local bands get together for triumphant post-Thanksgiving soirée.
At one point late in Snake Rattle Rattle Snake’s set, lead singer Hayley Helmericks thanked the crowd for making it out for Denver music’s big night. She appeared genuinely awed as she acknowledged the actuality of the evening. “This is an A team night.” It was a Friday night, the day after Thanksgiving, a day now more infamously known for the sensational stories of take no prisoners shopping. Mostly sickening stuff, (which be touched upon later in the night), but for adherers of Colorado music, this night was all about the return of one of Denver’s most beloved and important musicians.
We arrived at the Gothic while Snake Rattle Rattle Snake was playing, so let me clear up any pretense of comprehensive coverage. This piece will neither cover the entire evening’s slate of talented local artists, nor will it wax any poetic narrative about the local scene, etc. For me to even flirt with such a thing would be the height of phoniness. Other, impressively more timely and thorough Denver publications are where you should go for full service coverage.
I came to the Gothic Theater with a targeted focus. I’m admittedly obsessed with the quiet wisps and extraordinary range of Nathaniel Rateliff’s voice and he alone was my reason for venturing out on a frigid, windy night. Rateliff’s music has been a treat for these ears, figuratively sore from providing too much leash to novel and not-so-great artists increasingly littering my digital music locker of the past 18 months. From one bar to the next he’ll trick you into thinking his vocal chords are made of delicate silken threads – albeit wrinkled – before taking a breath to unleash titanium strength and nuclear powered fierceness. The counter-intuitive signature I appreciate most is how the space between notes is phantomly filled not by this treasured voice, but by pure silence. It is an interesting inversion of sound, how the lack of it can accentuate the opposite end of the spectrum, and vice versa. There is a remarkable tension with quietness, and in front of a crowd this paradoxical dynamic can be incredibly intense. I compare it to the nightmare of those fearful of public speaking, not a perfect analogy – but few things can be as terrifying as being in front of an audience without the ability to confidently put thoughts together to fill the air. Those moments where seconds feel like days permeate fear for all involved, and while not a tangible violation it can sure feel strong. While I partially digress, (silence is difficult to articulate, so which level of hellish irony did I go down to?) I’m ultimately hilariously and nerdily amazed by this inverted appreciation for sound structure that Nathaniel Rateliff exemplifies.
On the other hand, lest I underestimate the music – those actual notches imprinting wax are fully tangible marks! As soon as Rateliff and his band began playing I was drawn to the interesting ancillary effects of the aforementioned quietness. A menagerie of ambient noises; from the sound of stuttering shutters from cameras taking in light to the vibrations emanating from rattling seams of the building unable to absorb the low end from the bass. Like an ecosystem, each new, unique effect added to the general environment in a subtle but enveloping way.
On visual inspection Nathaniel Rateliff looks freshly awoken at all times, with messy, rolled out of bed hair, he sometimes looks startled, as if by a bright light, but nothing ever betrays the aura of being a super mellow dude. (Typecast him and you have couch-bound ‘friend #4’ from any early 90s slacker movie.) But with all due respect to Mr. Rateliff, handsomeness is not the main draw, not with a voice swaying from gravelly bitterness to buttery sweetness, a voice that redefines expectations of understated strength in a singer/songwriter. Anyone who can write a song like “Early Spring Till” has chilling powers agnostic of medium, and without doubt the most preferred method, live – it can knock you over. (Check out the Jool’s Holland performance from earlier this year for full-throated Rateliff + Ms. Julie Davis performing it – in high quality glory.)
Early in the set, “You Should’ve Seen the Other Guy” from last year’s In Memory of Loss (#33, from our 2010 Best songs list), the same striking conviction that drew me to it originally was reinforced. The way he enunciates the dry, sad words of the troubled protagonist conjures all the right feelings of the jarring lyrics. For a quiet dude, Rateliff has a real gift for inserting detail in his writing.
The way he touches all the right affections and the way tales are framed through the available tools in his arsenal is fascinating to see and hear. Much like a theater director, Rateliff is keen on properly staging his music, all the seemingly easy details are thought out in a deliberate manner. This was clear from simply observing his onstage band mates. Each face more passionate than the other, all sharing an intensity of 100% commitment. Each one connected completely to the emotional involvement of the music, but still able to communicate the importance in what they are involved with. Again, very intense. I have no idea how Nathaniel Rateliff conducts band practice, but whatever it is, amazing things are the result. Despite my extremely jaded outlook creating ever wider gaps between moments of being moved by music, it still does happen. A Nathaniel Rateliff show makes it easy to come by, a pleasant reminder of the awesome power of music.
Existing as a band between acts – a successful tour opening for Mumford and Sons wrapped and slow but steadily increasing attention through the exposure – Rateliff’s set featured a block of new material with a supposed home on a new album coming out sometime in 2012. The first song featured a syncopated driving rhythm. It teased the intro of vocals and ended with a Roger Waters-esque phrase that was the perfect medley of haunting and hopefulness: “Good morning everybody are you tired of being afraid?” A second new song saw members of openers A. Tom Collins joining the band onstage to add clarinet, saxophone and trumpet to a vibe changing song that temporarily turned the Gothic into a supper club with a slow, loungey number setting the mood. A muted trumpet announced itself with airy wisps while a jazzy beat held things down. Nathaniel Rateliff and Julie Davis harmonized together in an effortlessly romantic, almost cinematic way. In fact the entire scene would fit well in a transition scene in a French art film.
For the first encore the band formed a semicircle around a single microphone positioned in the front center of the stage for a gorgeous rendition of new song “Winded”. The stripped down performance created an even more intimate feel (yes, totally possible apparently). Even the constant background din of bar noise had quieted – clinking, laughs, loud conversations – no small feat for a room the size of the Gothic. It was followed by the earlier mentioned greatness that is “Early Spring Till”. It was magnificent in every way. Intense performance of a tragic, heartfelt song. The word beautiful doesn’t do it enough justice. The crowd’s silent reverence added a reflexively powerful dynamic as they remained totally restrained until the song’s emotional climax provided tacit permission to let go. “I could fill up with air and scream so loud….” Even as the silent crowd could wait no longer to do just that, first a final approval: “I think I’m going to.” This was the final affirmation needed to unleash the crowd. And they did. Arguably the biggest ovation of the night.
It wasn’t all hushed appreciation. More poppy sensibilities existed as well as final encore “Whimper and Wail” showed. Everyone plugged back in for the stormy folk of this standout track. The show ended with tongue planted firmly in cheek and a simple, unassumingly kind “good night” from Rateliff after he nonchalantly botched most of the last verse. It was a hilariously self-conscious moment to witness. Live in front of a packed crowd on what should be the apex of a big hometown show. Through some humorous face-clenching and smirked glances at Julie he ultimately owned it and brushed it away in one motion, ending the show with the aforementioned salutation. It wasn’t that he didn’t care to perform better, it just wasn’t deemed significant enough to address. The more I think about it I can’t conjure a better representation of laid-back Colorado attitude. For one night, I couldn’t think of a better Colorado hero to represent it.
Show notes: A quip about the ‘black Friday’ show: “thanks for coming the day after Thanksgiving. You could have been shopping right now! (boos). I support ‘buy nothing day’. Actually it’s good you came out to pay us and get drinks.”
According to reports, Governor John Hickenlooper was in attendance.
