Live Report: Whiskeytown in New York
The bottles strategically placed all over the stage were marked
“Budweiser, King of Beers.” The decal affixed to the soundboard of
the frontman’s black Gibson was of the Playboy bunny smoking a
spliff. The cigarette being smoked by the fiddler was a Marlboro
Light. Such were the stimulants of choice for the young
country-rock upstarts Whiskeytown. Not a single whiskey bottle was
in sight at their Tuesday night show at the Mercury Lounge, but the
twangy, Raleigh, N.C., sextet earnestly and passionately evoked the
rich traditions of country music in an hour-long set distinguished
by the unusual sight of fiddle and pedal steel guitar, pretty vocal
harmonies and enough barreling electric guitar to keep an adoring
urban crowd shouting out requests.
Dressed in black loafers, blue jeans and a red T-shirt, frontman
Ryan Adams could have passed for the precocious younger brother of
Wilco leader Jeff Tweedy. Sporting shaggy hair he could barely see
through, Adams turned up his small town,
from-the-wrong-side-of-the-tracks charisma to full blast almost
immediately, expertly guiding the band through “Excuse Me While I
Break My Own Heart Tonight,” the kind of dryly observed ballad that
characterizes Whiskeytown’s major label debut. Playing tough,
fuzzed-out guitar leads and taut arpeggios, Phil Wandscher’s
nostrils flared repeatedly as he got caught up in the music’s
momentum.
Such physical enthusiasm is emblematic of Whiskeytown’s
sincerity, which gave Adams’ well-written songs down-home intimacy
and raw appeal. During “16 Days” and “Houses on the Hill,” floating
harmonies sung by Adams, Wandscher and fiddler Caitlin Cary gave
the songs a keening melancholy that seemed wise beyond this young
band’s years. It took Adams’ impassioned rasp to save “Yesterday’s
News,” an uptempo rocker with clumsy lyrics that’s built around the
same riff as Wilco’s “Monday.”
Near the set’s end, after Adams and Wandscher framed a spooky
torch song with a Sonic Youth-style twin-guitar assault, this
reporter called out to Adams to ask the name of the song. “‘Not
Home Anymore’,” he answered, then quipped “It’s called smoke more
pot.” Perhaps the band’s narcotics of choice don’t hew to country
tradition, but when it comes to capturing the genre’s sound and
vision, Whiskeytown have clearly earned the benefit of the
doubt.