One might think, as I had, that a review of Justin Townes Earle would write itself. Because he’s a reincarnation of two of the greatest ever—Steve Earle and Townes Van Zandt. Because he is a young, volatile and talented musician with such a turbulent past that you’d need your toes in counting his rehab visits (13, so three toes). And anybody who knows anything about JTE certainly knows this because he’s never been one to conceal his history; if he’s not explicitly telling you on the stage or in an interview, he’s telling you in his lyrics. So because he does it best, I’m not delving into his family and his past and all the good hoopla that precedes him. Plus it’s not in my interest nor in my business to tell you about his life; I only intend to talk about his presence and performance at the Sinclair on Sunday. He’s a wild man with a special beatnik, Kerouac-esque persona that I—admittedly—eat up like any sanctimonious lit major.
As expected, Earle put on a show filled with killer anecdotes, one-liners, and renditions of his songs that I couldn’t lithely fit them all into one review. He has me wishing, for the sake of brevity, that he were a little less cool.
The show opened with Arc Iris, which on this particular night consisted of Jocie Adams, a former Low Anthem member, and Zach Tenorio-Miller, a former Berklee student. The band ranges in the number of its members depending on the performance, but the two of them had no problem making their presence felt. They embraced the Halloween spirit—Jocie in a short sparkly white dress and heels, Zach in a glimmering jacket, his face covered in glitter. Fittingly, their set felt theatrical; they’d abruptly stand up and switch seats, smiling amorously at each other as they battled on dueling keyboards.
Arc Iris would play soft and sweet and, just as abruptly as they’d switch chairs, drive into a rockabilly bridge that had them stomping their feet and shaking their hair. Their “Mary Mary Quite Contrary” rendition had Jocie smacking her car keys against a wind-up music box. They took a break from the new stuff to play an amiable story-song “Bed Of Notions” before reverting back into character. “Back to the new world” Jocie said, “Open your minds and we will too” as they went into their anti-everything set. The emphatic change of pace, from slow to fast and fast to slow, with Zach belligerently personifying every note, even had Jocie laughing at times. The skit, fun and weird, had me wondering if their Halloween costumes were really costumes or if they wear that every show or maybe even on a day to day basis.
Just after ten, Earle took the stage. He thanked us for coming out despite the Sox playing a pivotal game four in the World Series, later adding “I’ve seen how you fuckers act when you lose and I’m not getting into that shit.” Without much else, he jumped into the opening chords of “They Killed John Henry,” which were startlingly clear and crisp after the sort of deliberate and enjoyable dissonance of the set prior. He called on the seriously cool Paul Niehaus (from Calexico, Lambchop and more) to help in playing “Unfortunately Anna.” Earle prefaced this song by saying, “I thought I’d play this one early so we can lose the depression as the night goes on. Remember though, alcohol is a depressant. . . “ I do think the only thing keeping the audience from tears after that one was Paul Niehaus, in his best dad attire, crushing it on his steel guitar.
Earle told us he likes to play his songs somewhat differently every night, to keep himself and his audience from getting bored. I’ve become so used to hearing his recordings that it took me an extra second to recognize “Memphis in the Rain” and “Move Over Mama” especially when Niehaus was playing what Earle referred to as a Slip Iron, a stringed instrument that he’d pluck sitting down, like a jaded harp for blues and country tunes. It was like hearing his old albums for the first time.
But Earle, supposedly gearing up for another album, played some new songs too. He said, I thought, that he has belabored the “mama and daddy issues” bit and that this album would be of a different variety. He justifies the recurrent theme, saying, “ My parents had longer to fuck me up than I have had to get better.” I must’ve misheard, however, because the new track he sang went like, “Single mother, absent father, broken heart.” Maybe he was being sarcastic, maybe I just misheard, but I think we can expect some of the old in the new.
During songs he would repeatedly kick his cord out of the DI, saying he was not conscious of his movements, saying that he “never pays attention so [he’s] always tearing shit up.” Between songs he did some story-telling and contextualizing of the south. For him, that means talking about Juju vs. superstition, being whipped by his aunt with a thorny switch, the role of the church in music and so on. With this, he went home and brought us with him in an incredible performance of “Mama’s eyes.”
Throughout, of course, he did some characteristic story-telling and crowd interaction. One anecdote was about people breaking into his apartment in Crown Heights to cook crack, inspiring “One More Night in Brooklyn.” One about being high and hunting ducks with a rake. When someone asked him to play Rex’s Blues, he said “No. This is my train. You’re either riding it with me or you’re under the wheels.” And finally he played a two song encore, the first without Niehaus, and the second with, in “Slipping and Sliding,” a beautiful and melancholic song about relapse. It was everything I expected from a Justin Townes Earle show; he’s an incredible character, always with something to say, an anecdote always in his holster, that I nearly forgot he is also capable of playing such tremendous music. It’s the most important part and I was glad to be reminded.
