Show Review: Vic Chesnutt at the Central Presbyterian Church
Vic Chesnutt is an esteemed songwriter who has worked with many artists, though in the past these have most notably been with South-centric folks like Widespread Panic and Elf Power, with whom he has recorded albums, and R.E.M.’s Michael Stipe, who has produced his work in the past. For his last two records, though, Chesnutt reached north. He signed to Constellation records, a fairground for morbid Canadian instrumental bands, and collaborated with members of Thee Silver Mt. Zion, Godspeed You! Black Emperor, and perhaps strangely, Guy Picciotto of bands like Fugazi and Rites of Spring.
Together, this ensemble of talents released the album North Star Deserted and the more recent At the Cut, and for their show on Saturday night at the Central Presbyterian Church they were billed as The Vic Chesnutt Band (with special emphasis put on these member’s other projects). What was surprising was how quickly these musicians folded into Chesnutt’s talents, supporting but not overshadowing his bleakly beautiful compositions.
But before we get there, let’s talk about opener Liz Durrett, Chesnutt’s singer-songwriter niece. Though she often performs with a band, this evening Durrett took the stage alone with only her acoustic/electric guitar. With a full, sad voice that echoed up and up, tended to frequently overpower her guitar during quiet moments, but she also felt comfortable adding an electric edge to her songs now and again. While the full set might have seemed monochrome at times, Durrett’s sweet tone and an occasional pleasant surprise (she’s an ace whistler) kept most parishioners from nodding off in the pews.
And then it was time for the main act. Kind of an irascible character, Chesnutt seemed a bit down on himself all evening, very early declaring it would be “one of those nights” after some guitar flubs. He snapped a bit at the audience, his band, and was generally a little more ribald than is usually appropriate for church. Speaking with the Austinist, Chesnutt told us, “This venue I’m playing at in Austin actually called and asked me to tone it down a little. I said no - forget it. I’m not going to censor myself in any way.” And, true to form, Chesnutt operated under few restraints this evening. He commanded his voice to growl, hiss, and soar. After a muted first number, the band commenced with a loud, fitful song that surged with the efforts all four guitarists on stage. Suddenly, the lights and sound cut out, save for the thud of drums. It was as if the music was too much for the church to handle; the audience went nuts. Pretty soon, the problem was fixed and the set continued, but we knew - this band has oomph, perhaps made most clear during the frightening and guttural “Coward,” which opens At the Cut - pounding drum beats and rolls, angular riffs, and Chesnutt wailing, “I/ I/ I/ Am a Coward.”
Aside from the four guitars, the band also featured a wonderful performer on keys/organ, stand-up bass, and a drummer who was comfortable with both quietly smoldering and more explosive dynamics. Given the high billing of Picciotto, the man was restrained and complimentary to the overall din - Chesnutt’s bittersweet, classical-influenced picking was easier to pick out amongst the other players. And Chesnutt’s tone and lyrical gravitas were also impossible to miss. During “Flirted With You All My Life,” Chesnutt sang: “When my mom was cancer-sick/ She fought but then succumbed to it/ But you made her beg for it/ ‘Lord Jesus, please, I’m ready.’” It’s an open-ended statement that felt more than suited for a sanctuary.
This performance at Central Presbyterian was far removed from the twin spheres of alcohol and social revelry that accompany most rock and roll performances, but the boozy din of small talk was not something we missed this evening. Chesnutt’s tour is now over, and this final, most consecrated performance was a fitting close to this artist and his band’s most recent spiritual explorations.
