Last Sunday night at Great Scott, Dawn Fauna performed as a two-piece incarnation: Anna, who writes, sings, and plays the songs on keyboard and guitars, and Kevin, who alternated between guitar and a sparse drumset. I learned later that this set had largely been concocted in the 24 hours preceding the show to adjust to other members of the normal lineup being absent. It did not seem last-minute.
Doused in a solid amount of reverb, Anna’s complex and skillful vocals and Wurlitzer (or guitar, depending on the song) parts were the backbones of the songs, and it is easy to imagine them solo or with her other band members. Kevin’s instruments, which were not a part of Dawn Fauna’s normal canon, provided a nice build to the song structures. The builds went only so far, however, and it was difficult to tell when the climax had hit. The end of a song could be easily mistaken for a couple beats of rest if it weren’t for Anna bashfully thanking the audience and diving into the next.
Overall, the sparseness played to their favor, especially since Dawn Fauna’s songs were so haunting and subtle. The melodies and chords were my favorite kind: natural-sounding, but non-diatonic—relaxing, but unsettling. The two were likeable from the get-go and the sound was never too ambitious for its own good. The set had a low watermark of intensity, but it was just the right level.
Jacco Gardner stepped up and continued haunting this late October night (I’m sorry, please keep reading). After listening to their album Cabinet of Curiosities, I was sure there would be an emptier sound, but the production and perfect mix (courtesy of their traveling sound guy) made the sound as full, if not more so, than all of the sounds and instruments found on the record.
They droned and then jammed and then went seamlessly into tight pop songs, again with eerie and unsettling chord progressions. As a full band, they helped to bring up the energy and crescendos. The similarities between Jacco Gardner and Jose Gonzales are deeper than the corner of the world they hail from and their initials: Jacco sounds like if Junip were to eschew their own self-imposed limits and binge on ELO and Supertramp records. The blippy sampler and harpsichord, acoustic guitar, thick, plucking bass, and tight backbeat would make a perfect soundtrack to a reboot of one of Shakespeare’s more oneiric comedies.
The band’s three singers shared some beautiful moments of harmony that were so incredibly on-point that if this is actually them hungover, as they joked, then I don’t want to see them play with clear heads. Gardner’s own vocals hit a point between Gonzalez, Kevin Barnes, and Tame Impala’s Kevin Parker, but never all at the same time. From quiet and reserved, to overjoyed and erratic, to psychedelic and strung out, just like the music that played under him.
It was complex and if one hadn’t listened to the record recently as a refresher, it’s easy to be confused and lost with some of the winding melodies and chord changes. I’m sure this is a deterrent for some, and the beginnings of some songs are a turn off to me: when an idea has been introduced without the context of all the surrounding layers in place. It makes it all the more worthwhile once everything is in place. This almost seems like a game they play with their songs—make an unattractive melody and craft it into euphoria. They play this game well.
The night as a whole was an intimate affair—the club was far from packed, but from what I saw, everyone there was enjoying both acts in the different ways you would enjoy them: for Dawn Fauna, sitting at a table with your drink and listening intensely, trying not to make a sound for fear of interrupting the soft flow. For Jacco Gardner, moving to dance floor, swaying and dancing, watching intently as they hit each note precisely. Though the show ended at midnight on a Sunday, no one rushed out—everyone stayed to mingle with the bands, who didn’t seem in much of a rush to go anywhere either. This seemed appropriate for the evening that it followed.