Ten Songs that Floored Me Live in 2015

This list is a slightly different take on the year-end list. These are ten songs that when I saw them performed live, they left me speechless. Not all of them were written in 2015–in fact, many were not. But these versions of these songs happened live in 2015 and never will again. Charlie Parr describes live music as moving air molecules around for a while and that a song performed live is always a unique event. For me, the air molecules these musicians moved are still buzzing, and thinking about these moments brings me immeasurable joy. In no particular order, ten times I was floored by live music in 2015:

Dave Rawlings Machine, Short-Haired Women Blues, State Theatre (Portland, ME). This is probably the best concert I’ve ever been to. I couldn’t write a thing about it because I didn’t want my inability to capture it interfere with how it felt to be there. “Short-Haired Women Blues” displays perfectly what makes this band so special: the harmonies between Rawlings, Welch, and Watson; Brittany Hass’s ability to provide full texture to a song; Paul Kowert’s understated perfection on the bass. It’s so difficult to pick one song from this concert, but they probably could have just done this rendition, said “Thank you, good night” and I would have been happy.

Aaron Lee Tasjan, Living Proof, Newport Folk Festival. ALT has had a productive year, with a fantastic EP and LP. His appearance at Newport showed off what makes him one of my favorite new artists–his talent as a guitarist and incredible wry lyrical humor. “Living Proof” was the last song in his set at Newport and it’s made me a fan for life. He sings, “There’s so much I can’t remember, like how many L’s are in Van Halen. / But you’d never catch me spelling Lynyrd Skynyrd wrong. / ‘Cause Eddie, Alex, and Diamond Dave only wanted us all to pay ‘em / But Ronnie Van Zandt wanted us all to sing along.” It’s so hard to write songs that are both funny and thoughtful and he skates the line with Prine-ish skill.

Hip Hatchet, David’s Wolves, Atwood’s. I had wanted to see Hip Hatchet since his debut daytrotter session came out. This song, the first on that session, is what hooked me and it was just as good in person. He can growl and he can belt as a singer and his fingerpicking is expert. Singing about two of his friends, Hip Hatchet says: “They call me out, when I hold my breath / On the things I said, against the things that I meant.” They sound like good friends to me.

Hiss Golden Messenger, What Shall Be (Shall Be Enough), One Longfellow Square (Portland, ME). After an incredible set at Newport with the full band, I knew I had to drive up to Portland to see MC Taylor in this solo show. OLS is a real listening room, with pin-drop quiet crowds, and this song, with its beautiful simplicity, was the highlight for me. “Oh know the darkness, know the light / Oh know the light, you can’t own the light.” It was made even more special by Taylor’s comment that he hadn’t played it in years.

Sturgill Simpson, Listening to The Rain / Motivator, Paradise Rock Club. This was the last song in a very long night for Sturgill, who was battling the flu. His guitarist, Laur Joamets, put the group on his back and astonished the crowd at Paradise for two straight hours. In the encore, Simpson dug deep for this cover of The Stanley Brothers and T-Rex and delivered the vocal punch he’s known for. If you haven’t seen this crew live, you really need to–and stand stage right so you can see what Joamets is doing; just don’t blink.

Charlie Parr, Over the Red Cedar, Atwood’s. Charlie Parr writes songs that are true. In this case, one of the things I love about this song is that the verses don’t rhyme (for the most part). It expresses all the anxiety of parenthood (and maybe just of personhood) with perfect understatement. It does help too that Charlie Parr picks faster with just his thumb and index finger than most people can with all five fingers.

Bahamas, Lost in the Light, Newport Folk Festival. This song closed Bahamas’ set at the Festival. I loved the set so much, for the band’s swagger and ease and incredible musicianship. But this song is one of those when you hear the first notes and you just think “yes, they’re playing this one.” “If someone could help me now, they’d help you too. / They’d help you to see it through / All the hard things we all gotta do. / ‘Cause this life is long, so you wouldn’t be wrong / Being free, leaving me, on my own.” So gorgeous.

The Wood Brothers, One More Day, Somerville Theatre. I love that the Wood Brothers are always experimenting with their songs, finding new textures to them. In this case, “One More Day,” typically the electric-guitar driven jam that has Chris Wood soft-shoeing and everybody dancing at the end of the show, was transformed around one microphone into an almost somber reflection on getting just one more chance to get it right. Perhaps more than any other performers I’ve seen, The Wood Brothers talk openly about the symbiotic relationship between audience and musician. When some folks started to clap along and others hushed them, Oliver Wood leaned into the mic and said, “There’s nothing wrong with that,” and he drew everybody in, leading to a great big, beautiful sing along. Here they are playing on a carriage in New Orleans:

Christopher Paul Stelling, Brick by Brick, Atwood’s. “Stomp your feet,” Christopher Paul Stelling said during “Brick by Brick” and it was if we had all been holding back, waiting for permission and he didn’t have to tell us twice. Cambridge Street knew there was something going down at Atwood’s because Stelling had has stomping and clapping along (when we weren’t gaping) with his unbelievably fast and clean picking.

Bhi Bhiman, Guttersnipe, Prescott Park (Portsmouth, NH). Somehow, Prescott Park lines up an unbelievable summer concert series year after year. This year featured The Milk Carton Kids, Richard Thompson, David Wax Museum and this show with Bhiman and Josh Ritter. In a perfect setting, Bhiman’s voice soared and swirled over all of us gathered outside together. In the refrain, he sings, “I’m well on my way to feeeeeeeeeeelin’ fine” and you can try to sing along, but it’s damn hard to do what he’s doing. He performs with an effortless confidence and real joy between him and his band–they actually grin while playing, like they’re doing what they love or something.   

Max Garcia Conover, Eddie’s Wine, Club Passim. Max is incredibly prolific: recently, he released his 29th song this year. I first heard “Eddie’s Wine” at Passim last fall and it set the tone for a fantastic set featuring Max’s intricate, precise finger-picking.

It has a great beat with the suitcase drum and lyrics that are both catchy and thoughtful: “they built a new horizon just to satisfy their greed / but there’s no amount of running that’ll get them where they think they want to be.” I asked Max recently how he churns out these amazing songs week after week. He kind of laughed for a second and then said, “I work my ass off.” Goddamn right.

Here’s to all the performers who work their asses off every night and left even one person in their audience with the kind of feeling that makes things clearer for just a few moments. You make our communities richer, healthier, happier places. Thank you so much.