Flashes of Panic

I suppose I could write a lengthy review of last night’s Ryan Adams show at the Calvin, but since I realized about halfway through that I was far from the biggest fan in the room, I’ll just run through the high level.

Adams looked nothing like any of the photos on any of his CDs. More like Johnny Depp in his “Secret Window” phase, complete with a clip to keep his hair out of his eyes. He was pretty obviously smashed, which didn’t affect the music in the least, but led to lengthy, confused pauses between songs, as he tried to figure out if he was switching guitars, (I ended the night feeling sorry for his guitar tech,) or if he needed to tune the (presumably freshly tuned) guitar he’d just been handed.

During these pauses, sections of the audience indulged the annoying habit of hollering requests, none of which I recognized (and, so far as I know, none of which were eventually played.) After a few songs, when Adams figured out that he couldn’t just spit out a sheepish, “Thank you” and fiddle with his guitar, he started opening up and halfway filling the spaces with mumbled banter, most of which I couldn’t understand, either because I’m slightly deaf and wearing earplugs, or (more often) because he wasn’t speaking into the mike. The audience up front would ripple with laughter and I’d wonder what the joke was.

I’m making it sound like I didn’t enjoy the show, which isn’t the case. I think the intervals were actually more irritating because the punctuating songs were so good. It was almost as though Adams had something to prove. “Look,” he seemed to be saying, “I am so good that I can even do this wasted!” And he was really, really good, playing with some ease and intensity. It’s as though this stuff just flows out of him like water from a tap, once he turns the knob, and this is backed up by his allusions to three different albums he’s involved with which will be released by the end of the year.

The “new stuff” they started off with had a comfortable feel, even though I didn’t know the tunes. Hearing how he and the band filled out the songs gave me a nice extra dimension to add to the recordings, another layer of feeling on top of the bare sound, which I liked; now I can imagine them being played on stage.

One scene in particular, fairly early in the show. There is something up with Adams’ guitar, or at least he thinks so. “Hey,” he proposes to the band as he walks over to the piano, “Want to try that Rescue Blues?” They look a bit apprehensive, but the audience cheers enthusiastically. “Oh, no, no,” he cautions the audience. “We’ve only played it together once. We might get it wrong. But it’s better than just standing here, waiting for the guitar to be ready.”

They play it, with occasional conducting from Adams at the piano. It has some rough spots, but for the most part, it’s very good. We cheer.

Not long before midnight, it’s raining, and I get in my car. As I pull out of my parking spot and coast through downtown Northampton on my way home, WRSI finishes the song they’re playing, and puts on “The Rescue Blues.” I grin, and wonder if someone there was at the show.