Three tiny flames sat atop a piano on Monday night, burning in anticipation of Vanessa Carlton’s arrival to the stage at Brighton Music Hall. Offstage, fans— ranging in gender and age— nursed beers and sugary cocktails, and kept themselves close to where they thought Carlton might emerge. Opener Joshua Hyslop had just departed the stage, leaving the crowd to drink, shop, and ponder the popularity of this weird new genre of Ed Sheeran-y sad white boys, with confessional lyrics, an amazing voice, and a really awkward stage presence. A Monday night in a tight venue with 400 tired, drunk thirty-somethings is not how I would have imagined a concert for the “Thousand Miles” star a decade ago. But then again, Vanessa Carlton is not the same person she was 10 years ago. And neither are her fans.
To slowly introduce this notion, Carlton began her set with a handful of throwbacks. With her recognizable straight, dark locks contrasting a white, shaggy, faux-fur jacket, the pianist looked at the crowd but said nothing before starting the set with 2011’s single “Carousel” (including a really well-crafted Tom Petty, “Learning to Fly” lead-in), followed up by “Tall Tales for Spring.” Carlton presented the next song on the setlist by the year it was written (2004), and a quick apology to her brother for having to relentlessly endure a song about his sister’s “first time.” The first three notes were struck, and everyone in attendance was beaming. More than half were reliving some memories. And Carlton proved that “White Houses” is a song that grown men and women know every goddamn word to.
But this tour isn’t about her throwbacks. Liberman, Carlton’s most recent release, is supposed to be a 10-song-long dreamlike state, with quirky, atmospheric touches, and an earnestness that’s best-suited for an established artist. So it was interesting to see her convert her new sound— one she’s said is “sonically different,” and needs to be heard through headphones— to a live performance.
In many ways, Carlton’s live Liberman performance was widely successful. The lights behind the piano doused the venue in soft blues and purples, and the intro to “Take It Easy,” with its eerie, reverbing qualities was enough to hush an intoxicated crowd. Carlton’s soft-spoken explanation for tracks like “Willows,” about how it feels to give yourself to another person, and how parents had lives before they had kids, and “Operator,” about an older woman who’s a bad influence, gave fans something that the album hadn’t yet. Where she nixed the storytelling aspects of her lyrics, she makes up with by simply providing context to her audience. And although Carlton has said that the songs on Liberman aren’t necessarily personal to her, the live performance of them tells a different story. With each note struck on “House of Seven Swords,” and, especially, “Nothing Where Something Used To Be,” anyone in attendance could tell that these songs are something really profound for the artist. Even the quality of Carlton’s voice— sometimes severe, sometimes delicate, always distinguishable and stunning— ushered in these new songs with an obvious passion, giving the entire album a whole new relatable, listening experience.
Not everyone was so focused on Carlton’s masterful pianowork, stunning vocals, and genuine love for making music, however. Slowly but surely, the fans that were too impatient (read: wasted on a Monday night) couldn’t keep it to themselves. They became bored and talkative— two things that don’t mix well while there’s an acoustic singer/songwriter on stage at BMH. Some hollered at the artist, repeatedly requesting The Song, some pounded on the stage in an outrageous and aggressive attempt for attention from Carlton and “the band” a.k.a. violinist/composer/feathered and blonde-haired beauty, Skye Steele.
We were ten songs in when Vanessa Carlton said she had written the next song when she was 16 years old. Moments later, those groundbreaking piano notes registered to the crowd, and that’s pretty much the last I heard of “A Thousand Miles” played live. Quickly masking Carlton’s voice was the inebriated wailings of a big, Bud Light-clutching clique standing about five inches from my right eardrum. Smartphones were whipped out wildly. People hugged each other. Everyone in the venue was beaming. Everyone, that is, except the performer.
And it’s not like Vanessa Carlton is going to stop playing “A Thousand Miles.” She knows what her audience wants. But as much fun as it is to (badly) belt out the chorus to your favorite song, surrounded by your favorite friends who also kind of know most of the words, there’s a time and a place. Maybe it was 2001, when you still paid for CDs and actually bought Vanessa Carlton’s album. Maybe it was last week at a throwback dance party in your shitty, overpriced triple decker apartment in Somerville. But it probably should never be during an artist’s actual performance… louder than the artist herself… only to ditch the scene as soon as the four minute song is up.
However, something should be said for the majority of fans who remained and gave Carlton their attention as she finished off her 1.5 hour set with “Hear the Bells,” and “Home”— a song she dedicated to her Boston fans, who “always make this place feel like home.” I mean, there were audience members who knew every word to her Liberman songs. And if a ripened, talented woman in the music industry can consistently shake off inappropriate show behavior, put out music for the last 15 years, and still gather a dedicated fan following? She’s doing something right.
