Jim James @ the Phoenix Theatre, Toronto, April 24, 2013
In Toronto’s storied Phoenix Theatre last Wednesday, April
24, as I watched My Morning Jacket frontman Jim James conduct his band through
an emotional roller-coaster of a set, I was struck by a thought: this is what I
wanted last month’s Sigur Ros show to sound like.
James brought his Regions
of Light and Sound of God solo tour to an adoring and appreciative Canadian
audience that was both receptive and restless. We were grateful for the chance
to see the enigmatic James, who always puts on a good show, but there was an
underlying sense of wanting more. With opening act Cold Specks – from nearby
Etobicoke, Ontario – warming up the crowd, James and Co. sauntered onto the stage
around 9:20pm looking loose and relaxed.
Without preamble, James launched into material from his
first solo album with a measured sort of pace. It was loosely tight, with jams
designed to showcase the range of James’ musical oeuvre and the spectrum of
styles in which he can compose the music. Jams that on this night, even had
band-mates watching and cheering each other on with nods of approval.
I use the term compose
because, as he meandered around the stage, James not only observed his fellow
musicians but directed them, cueing
up a keyboard solo here, opening a deep hole for a bass line there, or clearing
out of the way of a triple-percussion rhythm. I felt that if James was a film
director, he’d be a cross between Alfred Hitchcock and Cecil B. De Mille.
Tracks like State of
the Art (A.E.I.O.U) and A New Life
evoked lilting, soulful and sorrowful lows; they mingled with feelings of
yearning and a kind of apprehension of the unknown, the sort of suspense
Hitchcock knew came from the subconscious – the unseen and powerful forces
James draws on in his music. This darkness was juxtaposed by the dense,
flood-like harmonies of Actress and All is Forgiven, the powerful and
evocative crescendos like DeMille’s climaxes, all sensory overload in full technicolour.
What this first set showed, more than anything else, was
James ability to create contrasts – the haunting harmonies and the bluegrass
boogies, soaring crescendos and cascading cavalcades of sound. There was a
Jimmy Buffet-like island rhythm, some African-inspired beats and jazzy, 50s era
swing sounds.
The type of experimentation James does on stage is reserved
for only the most investigative and risk-taking of artists, in that it doesn’t
always sound good – it’s not always pleasing,
per se – but guys like Jack White and
Jim James can get away with it. There was an almost scrupulous commitment to
anti-harmonies, off-beat notes and clashing tempos that can split heads or
summon angels. It felt as though he was challenging the crowd to find the
meaning in the white noise.
After the complete-album first set, James began the second with
an MMJ cover of Wonderful (The Way I
Feel) and then worked through some Monsters of Folk material, including Dear God (Sincerely M.O.F.), His Master’s Voice and Losin Yo Head, the song that I think
came closest to capturing that MMJ-outdoor-festival vibe. While it was cool to
see this material live, it felt almost anti-climactic compared to the first
set. This was more accessible, folksy material about prayer, love and
spirituality and it seemed a bit…simple…when it was called on to follow up
James’ solo stuff.
Having seen My Morning Jacket several times, I couldn’t help
but observe a more subdued and level-headed Jim James than I’d seen in the
past. There was hardly a hint of the cavorting wild-man, the vampire-cape
wearing, slide-guitar animal I was expecting.
