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08/09/10 Black Cat - Washington DC *
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08/10/10 Sonar - Baltimore, MD * 08/14/10 Club Hell - Providence, RI * 08/15/10 Middle East Downstairs - Cambridge, MA * * w/ Phosphorescent |
When Josh “of Fleet Foxes” Tillman commented on the Cedar audience’s general lack of liveliness, he was not exaggerating. Perhaps the stifling summer heat kept spirits low; that, or the combination of dim lighting, floor “seats” (a few yoga mats short of a Midwest ashram), and Tillman’s soothing voice contributed to the sleepy ambience.
Incidentally, where the evening lacked in oomph, it fully made up for in quantities of plaid shirts. This was a “Whole Foods stockboy-meets-rustic mountain man-minus the rustic” sort of crowd. Fitting when one considers the music that Tillman produces: mild-mannered backwoods prose (#stuffwhitepeoplelike). In the wrong context, Tillman’s decision to tour solo (sans band) might seem a tad risky, especially since his stripped down set avoided any inclination to climax, musically speaking. In short, the night belonged to Tillman and his guitar, excitement be damned.
Of course, the reason why the show succeeded, or at the very least, didn’t bore, was largely due to the raw talent on display. Tillman’s skill as a lyricist—how many city-dwelling musicians can pen songs about heavenly martyrs and glacial lakes?—and the sheer quality of his voice superseded any question to his legitimacy.
The songs in question come from Tillman’s latest album, Year in the Kingdom, a mashup of old world charm and modern production. Like any good Fleet Foxes* protégé, Tillman possesses shrewd harmonic sensibilities and a gift for modifying ageless techniques. During his last tour with a full band, he displayed surprising force on stage. The energy circulating inside the venue was curiously turbulent for a musician dubbed “folk” and at the time felt like a radical departure from the original material. Tuesday’s show, however, proved a simpler concept can often produce more imaginative results. With the absence of an instrumental gangbang, Tillman’s lyrics were free to spread their legs and share dark secrets with the world.
The highest compliment a critic can give a musician is to say he’s “mysterious,” because mystery implies an unwillingness to conform to any established standard. J. Tillman remains a mystery, inasmuch as he doesn’t appear to care for celebrity…or a posse. He may be a member of the biggest indie folk band in Pitchfork history, and yet as a solo artist he travels cross-country with only Talk Radio for company. There are shades of a young Dylan in this approach**, as well as hints of a reclusive personality, not unusual for a man whose songs imagine the beautiful sadness that plagues the hearts of poets and record store employees.
J. Tillman is bustin’ heads and breakin’ hearts on tour with Phosphorescent. For remaining August dates visit his artist spot on the Western Vinyl website. Unfortunately, Tillman does not appear to exist elsewhere on the Internet (his Myspace page now links to a person calling himself “Robert Downey Jr.”).
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♥ J. Tillman |
*Sneaking suspicion that Tillman is doing his darnedest to separate himself from Fleet Foxes fame, but I say embrace the hype for personal gain!
**Likening a musician to Bob Dylan is probably the highest compliment a critic can give.
08/08/2010 18:34:56 ♥ lara (
) ♥ myspace.com/jtillman
