You know that myth about Paul McCartney. The one that he actually died in 1966 and was replaced in The Beatles by a man called William Campbell. Well, as Mr ‘McCartney’ plays to a lucky few at Camden’s Electric Ballroom, there just might be another imposter at work a few hundred metres down the road.
For the Ryan Adams that plays Koko tonight doesn’t seem much like the Adams of old at all. And shrouded in darkness throughout the gig, hidden behind sunglasses and placed in amongst his band rather than out front, it could really be anyone on stage. Add the fact that he doesn’t take up his usual guitar duties (allegedly due to a skateboarding accident) and that he doesn’t speak to the audience once until introducing his band at the start of the encore and suspicions are aroused further that there is something not quite right with this so called Ryan Adams. No heckles are put down acerbically, no one is thrown out of the gig and Adams himself manages to keep himself on stage without falling off. In fact he remains seated as well as silent throughout. So just what is up with Americana’s favourite son?
Well in fact tonight’s on-stage placidity is something that extends beyond the live environment. Now 32, the somewhat rehabilitated Adams (take note Chaplin, Hawkins et al – no celebrity clinic necessary) has given up his booze-fuelled and amphetamine-crazed wild child lifestyle in favour of one that can best be described as that of a clean-living workaholic. Not content with 8 solo albums in 7 years, he recently put up some 11 albums on his website, including hilarious attempts to tackle the punk and hip-hop genres. Cigarettes and coffee are apparently his only vices these days. The results have been palpable. Volatility and obtuseness in interview have been replaced with an affable honesty, concerts are technically masterful but pass without incident and even the celebrity girlfriends (including Winona Ryder, Parker Posey and Lindsay Lohan) seem to have disappeared.
Or, was the initial suspicion correct? Is this in fact some look-a-like contest winner who has been roped in by the record company to cover up the real man’s breakdown, kidnap or worse? The moment the man on stage opens his mouth to deliver his first line through the darkness there is no doubting he is the real deal. Somehow, somewhere over the last couple of years, Adams has transformed from the ashtray voiced country boy that he was, to a vocalist of real note. Flanked by the similarly blessed Cardinals (Neal Casal, Jon Graboff, Brad Pemberton, Chris Feinstein and Jamie Candiloro drafted in on keys), Adams and his band give a lesson in arrangement – both vocally and instrumentally – during one of the most beautifully pure concerts I have witnessed.
Between him and his band, they must take hours to come up with a set list, so prolific a songwriter has Adams been. Tonight the set draws predominantly from impending new album ‘Easy Tiger’ and 2005’s trio of releases: ‘Cold Roses’, ‘Jacksonville City Nights’ and ‘29’. Each song attempted is a triumph of harmony and despite no cause for dancing, those in the front row will surely return to the Camden night air soaking wet, so drenched in Jon Graboff’s pedal steel are these songs.
From the gorgeous opener ‘Games’ to well-received new single ‘Two’ that ends up being the last number of the night, each song is delivered perfectly. Stripped of guitar duties, Adams is perhaps able to concentrate closer on his vocal duties and gets thoroughly absorbed in them, clinging to the microphone and pulling out some hand-clenching emotion to emphasise his effort. The Cardinals too deserve considerable credit for their contribution to the collective beauty of these heartfelt tunes, with Neal Casal’s vocals and Graboff’s pedal steel really standing out. The consistency of performance is such that the new tracks fit in smoothly between the recognisable ones and each one sounds like a winner. A surprising set highlight is an extended version of ‘I See Monster’s’ from 2003’s dark ‘Love Is Hell Part 2’. Other standouts from the back catalogue include a rare outing for ‘Gold’s ‘Goodnight Hollywood Boulevard’, token Heartbreaker moment ‘Winding Wheel’ and ‘JCN’s ‘Dear John’ but in truth there are no weak links tonight and each song is a joy.
The passionate Ryan Adams fan (and there’s certainly a LOT of them), though, might feel a little cheated tonight. No support act means a long two hour wait for their hero to emerge. For the drinker that time is made to feel even longer at £3.70 a can of Kronenbourg and when added to the £25+ for a ticket, it becomes a rather pricey evening. At just an hour and a quarter it is a fairly short set – especially by Ryan Adams standards – there is just a handful of ‘old’ songs (again by Ryan Adams standards, very few promoting their new album would play a set full of old songs) and none of his witty banter (or in a cynically voyeuristic way, none of the unpredictability of some of his tortured drunken performances).
The lack of crowd interaction and difficulty anyone further back than the fifth row must have had in seeing their hero might also have been a mite frustrating. It’s often better to see a performer show emotion on stage whether it’s positive or negative rather than simple muteness and it would have certainly have been expected from Adams in the past. Tonight, though, all emotion is directed solely into singing his songs. Similarly, those not as familiar with Adams’ music, while surely unable to deny the beauty of the performance could be forgiven for finding the proceedings a tad one-dimensional, or even dull. Still, for one racked in the past by a variety of demons, it is certainly nice to see a performer concentrating purely on delivering what are undoubtedly wonderful songs.
One other thing I can’t help thinking while witnessing this lovely performance, though, concerns the state of Americana/Alt-Country music in 2007. Rewind to 2000 and Adams was a tormented, erratic soul who had acrimoniously disbanded his band Whiskeytown and cemented his place in the American music elite with the career-defining solo debut ‘Heartbreaker’. That same year a similarly tortured 20 year old Conor Oberst was still wailing about depression on Bright Eyes’ third album ‘Fevers and Mirrors’, while over in Chicago Wilco were recording the incredibly progressive and equally career-defining ‘Yankee Hotel Foxtrot’. Being a fan of Americana was, dare I say it, an exciting place to be.
In 2007 these three major players each release albums within two months of each other and my how things have changed. Adams has gone all harmonies and pedal steel, Jeff Tweedy is happy, Oberst is a grandiose political commentator who regularly tops the Billboard charts and all three are adored by Radio 2. Is it just me, or are we all getting a bit old…?
However, tonight’s show proves that at least Adams the man is healthy (hand injury aside) and Adams the performer is more than capable of writing and delivering beautiful, affecting songs. If this is in fact the real Ryan Adams, he will continue to perform charming concerts such as this with as good a backing band as there is around. Unfair as it is, many, though (myself included), will not be able to help missing the baggage.
****
First published on rockfeedback.com. See it here.
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