Son Volt's not the same as it was this second time around, but Jay Farrar continues making the best country rock around -- maybe ever. While Thursday's show at the 9:30 Club was heavy on Volt 2.0, it demonstrated that Farrar's still got the gifts he gave us with Uncle Tupelo a decade and a half ago and continued with the first incarnation of this band.
"It took 65 minutes for them to play something from 'Trace,'" remarked one fan who went on to say the band should just start off playing that, their debut record from 1995, and then pick some songs to fill out the rest of the time. That, a common sentiment, wasn't going to happen, and it's no surprise.
Playing the 9:30 in support of "Okemah and the Melody of Riot" in 2005, Farrar and his troupe of Son Volt virgins indulged its audience with more old favorites and new songs that felt familiar, befitting a back-from-the-dead event. But this is an alive-and-kicking tour, so it's apropos that the band is playing songs largely from the latest records. With a second album under its belt, this generation has plenty of its own material to lean on. But while "Okemah" sounded like Son Volt of old, "The Search" often departs from that pure Americana rock. It's not a bad album -- in six months it might very well be my favorite -- but it's different, like Farrar is hearing the critics who've derided him for not changing enough and expanding his sonic territory in response. The live show followed suit.
The new record's title track was one of those fresh moments that sounds 10 years old. It was a driving, hopeful song with that inimitable blend of pop rock and country. "Action" and "Circadian Rhythm" towed the same line, but in those songs, new directions were present. The former was a bit crunchier than usual with psychedelic keys, while the latter sounded like a more modern take on roots rock. Like Chris Isaak territory.
Some other new material is a complete surprise. "Adrenaline and Heresy" isn't far from Farrar's past sparse, lovey and lonely songs, but it shows him exploring new soundscapes and more ambient backdrops, as well as letting his band members express themselves. But "The Picture" sounded nothing like Son Volt. A straight up pop rock song, the band even had a couple of horn players giving it a soulful bounce that sounds more like Beulah or some other Elephant 6ers.
Of the current Son Volt's material, and with the possible exceptions of "The Search" and "Methamphetamines" from the new album, a handful of "Okemah" songs stuck out. Like "The Search," "Bandages and Scars" and "Jet Pilot" were rockin' Americana tunes with strong, subtle hooks and bursts of energy. The mellower "Medication" was an acoustic choogle on a weekend in the Bayou -- steady, cool beat surrounded by haunting guitars. The band's finest moment, though, has been the same for a dozen years. "Drown," the quintessential Son Volt song from that untouchable debut album, is still what the crowd wants to hear, and still what the band does best, blending power pop and drunken, blue collar country.
Son Volt closed with another "Okemah" highlight, "Afterglow 61," which typifies the group's classic sound -- alt-country with anthemic pop hooks. When the band returned for its encore, it subdued the crowd with "Windfall" from "Trace." It was a stunning, mellow reading of the song, but the lack of steel guitar was never so distracting in the set, particularly with the keys trying to replace it. The keys were a nice touch in several of the songs, but often they just weren't needed and got in the way.
And then -- we waited, we hoped -- Farrar reached back to Uncle Tupelo for a couple of songs. "Chickamauga" was as foot-stomping and inspirational as ever, but prior to that, the rocksteady version of "Life Worth Livin'" was disappointing. That song's desperate lyrics are affecting enough alone, and while I wouldn't expect the acoustic-heavy Uncle Tupelo version, prettier music -- or even straight ahead rock -- would have done the sentiment more justice than the reggae rock guitars.
They came back for a second encore, but the band put its music and Farrar's voice on hold, ripping through a raucous, sloppy cover of the Rolling Stones' "Bitch." The horn players rejoined the band, but more interesting was the guitar tech's turn at lead vocals. He slinked about the stage like a seductive Iggy Pop, snarlin' and croonin' Mick's lyrics. But when the song came to a close, he dutifully handed the show back to Farrar as Farrar handed off his guitar for his tech to carry off stage.
