Flute music echoed over the loudspeakers at The Wilbur on Wednesday, December 4th to welcome Black Belt Eagle Scout to the stage. As she opens every show, Katherine Paul (aka KP) thanked the local indigenous people for letting the audience gather on their land—in this case, the Massachusett tribe. KP evokes genuine thoughtfulness on stage and in her music. In the opening song “Loss & Relax” KP shredded a familiar melody on guitar, one that appears in different iterations through her sophomore album, At the Party With My Brown Friends.
When KP traded her guitar for the drum kit, there was palpable excitement in the audience. KP pointed out that “Going to the Beach with Haley,” is about none other than fellow Portland, OR singer-songwriter Haley Heynderickx, who happened to be opening for Lucy Dacus across the street that very same night. The striking keys and thundering bass drum were hypnotizing.
(Check out Allston Pudding’s coverage of Newport Folk Festival where we had a chance to chat with KP and Haley Heynderickx.)
“Indians Never Die” showcased not only KP’s guitar skills but also her backup guitarist’s with equally tight melodies and countermelodies. When KP later dedicated the set to Lauren Newman who recently passed, the song felt especially poignant in retrospect.
Before KP dove into one of her new lead singles, “My Heart Dreams,” she encouraged everyone to just “go for it” in regards to acting on your crush, because “life is too short to not be happy.” She quickly backpedaled and said, “but you don’t have to take my advice. I know I hate it when people tell you what to do from stage.” But it’s hard not to be encouraged when you hear KP raspy whisper sing, “I look at this life/I only want me and you.”
Her final dedication of the night was to Two-spirit people and Indigiqueer people. “I love my people,” she said before launching into the queer anthem, “Soft Stud.” KP excelled on guitar, killing the fret, while the drummer played loud and intricate riffs, and the backup guitarist was stellar.
The second “opener” was Devendra Banhart‘s Buddhist teacher. He came to the stage with a message of, “Merry impeachment!” and caught the audience off guard when he said he was invited to lead a meditation in the middle of a concert. He teased in good spirits that he wasn’t going to dramatically shift gears, but his message about forgiveness and holding onto good friends did not feel out of place. Even though he practiced Buddhism, he also advocated for justified anger, because speaking as a black and queer person trying to exist in the world, he knew his anger was justified.
To begin his performance, Devendra Banhart sat down with his acoustic guitar and sang the tongue-in-cheek lyrics, “Is this nice? Do you like it? Would you like me to sing you this song?” and, “Is this real? Do I mean it? You know that I do.” Even after almost two decades of performing, Banhart’s playful stage presence gives you the sense that he’s genuinely pleased to be there. (Plus, it doesn’t hurt that in between songs he said, “I love you and there’s nothing you can do about it,” a quote he attributed to Ritchie Valens.)
Another song that was cheekily self-aware at first glance was “Taking a Page,” when Banhart sings, “Words tend to mean the most in songs that are just music,” perhaps alluding to the meaning listeners ascribe to his own songs. But the rest of the song honors how he reached for Carole King’s music to make sense of the shock of Trump’s election.
Although much of the set featured music from Banhart’s latest album Ma, the songs had the lived-in feel of your favorite shoes. When it was just Banhart with his acoustic guitar, his gentle vocals sounded like a lullaby and light cymbal brushstrokes kept the tempo. But there were equally vibrant songs that featured intricate electric guitar and triumphant full-band chorus that Banhart wiggled around the stage to. His theatrical facial expressions kept you from taking the lyrics—or his dancing—too seriously.