As I noted in my last review, I’ve
been away for a week seeing a lot of live shows in various cities and buying a
bunch of new (to me) music. When those two activities crossover it gives me a
chance to review a new (to me) album as well as review a show, and this is my
second in a series of three such reviews.
Two days before the Frank
Turner/Jason Isbell show in Portland Sheila and I were in San Francisco. We
spent the day shopping in the Haight-Asbury area and with the 49ers/Panthers
game not until the following day arranged to do something that night. That
something was the Frances Luke Accord live in concert and ended up being a very
happy musical accident indeed.
The review of the live show
follows, but first a review of the studio album they were touring.
Disc 1051 is…Fluke
Artist: Frances
Luke Accord
Year of Release: 2016
What’s up with the Cover? A lot of geometry. This is
either a cubist collage or someone who went a little overboard with the
spirograph. I don’t mind it, but I would’ve preferred the logo from the band’s
tour shirt:
How I Came To Know It: Before we left Victoria I had scoped out possible bands and
the best bet seemed to be the Growlers, who are a crazy mix of rock and surf
punk.
However, that show had sold out
the day before I went to buy tickets so I went with my second choice – a folk
duo I’d never heard of called the Frances Luke Accord that sounded pretty good
on Youtube. After the show, I bought the album from the merch table. I also bought the t-shirt. Who doesn’t love a whale tail?
How It Stacks Up: I only have this one Frances Luke Accord
album, so it can’t really stack up.
Ratings: 3 stars
The
Frances Luke Accord are two multi-instrumentalists and vocalists, Nicholas
Gunty and Brian Powers that sound like the second coming of Simon and Garfunkel.
They are
formally trained and have a ton of talent that brings that training to life.
Their playing is crisp and joyful, and man can they sing sweet harmonies. They
could go and have successful careers as session musicians to the end of their
days but I’m really glad they haven’t.
That’s
because they are also gifted songwriters, who pull together light and flowing
melodies that are inspired equally by jazz, pop and folk music. The songs
surprise you in the way they develop but still sound soothing to the soul. Too
often jazz sensibilities lead composers down strange progressions that are
jarring to the ear. On “Fluke” the Frances Luke Accord knows how to reign in
the jazz elements and use it to serve the song, rather than to just be clever.
OK – once in a while they get a bit clever, but they leave the melody alone.
I wasn’t
as inspired lyrically as I was musically. At their best, the duo create lovely pastoral
images or fleeting moments of emotional reaction, but they can also tend toward
metaphors that are a bit too universal to capture your attention. It is a minor
quibble though, because I’d listen to these guys sing the phone book and be
happy.
“Nowhere to Be Found” is the standout on
the album, or maybe I just like it best because it is the most stripped down
and folksy (more on that in a minute). This song feels like it fell right out
of Simon and Garfunkel’s songbook. With its themes of emptying out desire and
freeing yourself in the process, this is a song that would make the Dalai Lama
smile. Also, it’s catchy.
Also a
shout out to violinist Katie Van Dusen, who is featured on two songs (the too-short
“The Nightline” and the too-long “On the Road”). Despite wanting one of these
songs to develop a bit more and the other to wrap it up, there was no denying
the majestic beauty of Van Dusen’s violin when she lit up the arrangement. It
was one thing I wished had been at the concert.
In most
of the other places, though, I wanted the Frances Luke Accord to strip back the
arrangements. There were places where drums, piano and trumpet would enter the
songs where I was happy with just the guitars and the violin. The Frances Luke
Accord concert was a special musical moment for me, and part of what made it
special was the spectacular soundscapes they guys made with just vocals and
guitars. It kind of spoiled me for what to expect on the CD. Sorry about that,
Frances Luke Accord – I still really like the record.
Best
tracks: Who Do
You Run From, Tangled in Your Web, Nowhere to Be Found
The
Concert – September 9, 2017 – Doc’s Lab, San Francisco
Doc’s Lab was the perfect setting for an intimate
evening of indie folk music. Originally it was the Purple Onion, and well known
for hosting all kinds of famous comedians in the fifties and sixties. At a
seating capacity of around 90 it was cozy, and had great sound.
Sparkbox
The opening act was Sparkbox, which is the combined
talents of Megan Keely and Kelly McFarling, both of whom are solo
contemporary folk singer-songwriters based in San Francisco. Together, they
perform under the name Sparkbox, although I’m not sure why. If that was
explained at some point I either missed it or I’ve forgotten.
At this point I should note that I saw this show only
two days removed from a very busy work week and was looking for an opportunity
to kick start my holiday and let off some steam. I hit the double rum and cokes
early and kept ‘em coming. More on this later.
Back to Sparkbox, who I had never heard before, but
was pretty excited when I saw it was going to be just two women armed with a
banjo and a couple of guitars. As noted in the review above, I’m a sucker for sparse
production.
I was not to be disappointed. Keely and McFarling
sang sweet and thoughtful songs inspired from the events of their lives. They
had a bit of friendly banter, and while they came close to crossing into “painful
open mic” territory they stayed on the right side of the line.
They both played well and sang even better.
McFarling’s voice was rich and rangy, and she had an easy and natural flow on
the banjo. Keely sang a bit higher, and they blended into loose harmony very
well. They reminded me favourably of the Wailin’ Jennys, LINK minus a Jenny.
Doc’s Lab is not just a hipster music venue, it is
also a hipster restaurant, and through the show I enjoyed a meal of steak and frites
and a few more double rum and cokes. Along the way we got to know Megan Keely’s
parents and uncle, who were sitting beside us. They were amazing people who
clearly loved music. Sheila was concerned I swore too much when I talked to
them, but it was just the blue collar in me, being friendly.
I met both performers after the show and they were
gracious and charming. They had six albums for sale and I went with four. This
caused some excitement and left me with the feeling they didn’t sell a lot of
hard copy. That’s a pity, and a good reminder that if you’re at a show and you
like the opening act then buy their album. If you don’t support up-and-coming
artists, there won’t be any.
I plan to review those albums at some point,
obviously, but since neither one was – strictly speaking – “Sparkbox” – I
decided to just put the review here.
Frances
Luke Accord
About an hour later, the Frances Luke Accord took
the stage, and I was already in a state of musical euphoria. Also drunk at this
point, but mostly it was the music.
The Frances Luke Accord elevated my mood even
further, with sublime harmonies and an exceptional amount of skill on both
guitar and mandolin.
Their playing was organic and lush and all my minor
quibbles with the excess instrumentation on the album originate here, with just
two great musicians, pouring their heart and souls into their instruments.
The whole thing just felt…graceful. Drunk and happy,
I swayed along to songs I’d only heard once or twice before but that now felt
intimately familiar to me, like they were speaking to my soul. Stripped down to
just vocals and two stringed instruments (sometimes guitar and mandolin,
sometimes double guitar) you could really focus on the fantastic tone and
delivery these two guys were pumping out.
I hope my swaying wasn’t more than mildly
distracting to the people behind me, but I like to think I was swaying in time.
Also I didn’t shout random things and I didn’t stand up and hold my drink to
the stage for an awkwardly long time, which are the two classic drunk
concert-goer faux pas.
Then, all too soon, the show was over and I found
myself back at the merch table, this time babbling to the band about what a
profound experience I’d just had. I probably expressed such musical revelations
as “man, you guys can really play!”
and “your tone is amazing!” Not
terribly insightful, but I delivered the message with gusto, partly surprised
at how much I had liked the show, and partly just feeling enhanced with the power
of all those Sailor Jerry and cokes.
Whatever I said, one of the band members (Brian)
sold me a CD and a t-shirt and the other one (Nick) gave me a big hug, so I
think I made a positive impression. Sheila was right behind me, stuffing these
into her purse alongside my earlier musical purchases, settling up the tab and
possibly apologizing for any F-bombs I’d casually dropped with the Keely
family. She also got a hug from half of the Frances Luke Accord. Brian was
friendly as well, but more of a handshake guy.
Then we were on the road, with the heady glow of
folk music flushing my cheeks, and a warm San Francisco wind blowing us back to
the hotel. It was a fine way to start a holiday.
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