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19 December, 2001, Showbox, Seattle, WA review by Sean After seeing Mark Lanegan the night before in Portland,
I took off for Seattle by Greyhound. I made it there in mid-afternoon.
review by Amy I have never written a review before nor have I have ever seen Mark play outside of the Sceaming Trees. The performance, for me, was a singular event with no comparison or experience to draw from. I am also writing about a Seattle concert for christ’s sake and I am from St. Louis! I do not feel qualified. But I would want to hear ANYTHING about one of his performances. As I too live where he does not roam... I must preface everything with a little history to put everything into perspective. I have been listening to the Screaming Trees since about ‘87 or ‘88 when I heard them on college radio in Kentucky. I became even more devout when Mark went solo. That voice, alone, is glorious. I moved to St. Louis in 1988 and had to wait until 1993 to see them in St. Louis at the Riverport Amphitheater (remember the place Guns and Roses got into a fight with the audience?). They were the first band of a three-band set (cannot remember who the main band was). They played in daylight, outside, almost no one in the audience, and, since we had cheap tickets, they were far away and about half an inch tall. Mark had long hair; could not see his face anyway. But they were spectacular of course. So that was it; that was the extent of my Screaming Trees/Mark Lanegan experience. I joined the list serve in hopes of hearing about concerts. I had no idea he played so rarely; I just thought if I waited patiently he would show up in St. Louis. I have been in Seattle a number of times before this year and each time I hoped he might be playing there. I have waited and waited and waited... I have pleaded in desperate email messages to him c/o Subpop (and feeling really stupid to even be doing it). I even offered to pay to fly Mark and Mike Johnson here, pay for everything, just to have them play in the big furnitureless living room of my old house. (Not wealthy, just willing to use the credit card and incur interest). No response. Yet. Not that I expected one; I was merely desperate. So I signed on to the onewhiskey list serve last Spring in hopes that someone there would eventually know if he was touring in the U.S. Sure enough the concert dates were posted there first. I had my sister-in-law, in Seattle, buy the tickets immediately. I was afraid they would sell out. So I had been waiting quite some time when we flew into Seattle on Wednesday morning, December 19. We went downtown to get lunch and there was his name at the top of the marquee. And I had tickets (though I hadn’t seen them yet). I do not think it is possible for me to write an objective “official” music review or any kind of review without describing the circumstances surrounding the experience of the concert. Because all of that played as much of a role as the music. We ate dinner with some friends a block away at the Pink Door but all I could think about was getting to the theater and getting front and center; I wanted a view up his nostrils! We got there around 8:15 (delayed by a bottle of wine that made time stand still.) But the doors were not open yet. So we were all milling around out front when a couple in their mid-30s came up to ME of all people and asked who everyone was waiting to see; I guess it looked like a sold-out show because we were all standing there. I told them there were some other bands playing (I had not seen that Mike Johnson had replaced one of the bands yet) but that we were here for Mark Lanegan. So they ask what kind of music he played; what is he like. My sister-in-law points to me and says, “She’s the expert; ask her”. So there I am, in the middle of a crowd of Seattle natives who have probably known him for years and I have to describe his music. Music is very difficult to describe. Man was I feeling conspicuous. I cannot fuck this up I thought; this could be embarrassing. But something sufficient came to me: “American roots music. Tom Waits-like”. They said, “Cool, Tom Waits!”, and walked away. Finally we got in. The Showbox is a beautiful theater, a sort of semi-circular wooden floor in front of the stage with a couple levels of terraces around that with bars in the back. And the acoustics seem to be pretty good too. Consequently most any place was pretty good but I had to be close for this one. It looked like there was no problem getting a front and center position so I waited in the back for a while and drank a few beers. I was in position when Jessie Sykes started (and she was quite good too actually; beautiful voice) and it was a PERFECT position. I am also very fond of Mike Johnson’s work so the night was turning into quite an event for me. But when Mike ended things started to get rough. I am very small and short and I have never had any interest in being so close to the stage because it has always looked very dangerous up there and generally not worth it. I am not weak and wimpy, I can take care of myself, but it is very annoying to be shoved around for 2 hours or more by big men. But this was different. It was probably the only time I would ever see him. Man I earned that spot and I am sure glad I was wearing big clunky shoes. It was not long before people were pushing their way to the front and I was in the prime position right under him. The tallest guy in the world and his girlfriend got up right next to me and a little in front. No way. I held my ground. He was real nice about it for the most part but quite a few times during the show I was having to lean into him to keep from being knocked over; my elbow was at his hip bone! Another tall guy (okay, all men are tall) was sort of in front of me but he had been there first. I am a very fair person (and a little naive apparently). And then there were the people behind me, drunk and shoving, leaning on my back, dropped a jaegermeister on the tall guy who was politely sitting on the floor. I ignored the guy for a while but he was literally laying across my mostly bare back (really hot up there too) in some sort of itchy fuzzy sweater. And before that he and his, uh, ‘date’ (?) were breathing heavily on my neck and in my ear. How much closer could they get? I felt like I was making out with them! I finally rolled my shoulders and sort of flipped him off my back and he was gone. I am afraid some of these people will be on this list serve and be offended but some of them were just horribly rude. I really learned a lot about our animal-instinct territoriality up there in the prime Mark Lanegan real estate. And about the negative effects of alcohol on some people. But for the most part everyone was really really cool. Way cool. For some reason, quite out of the blue really because we had not spoken at all, one of the two guys in front of me and to my left motioned for me to take his space right up against the stage for a while. I could see all of Mark instead of the version truncated by the amp. I do not know why he did it but it was very nice; I hope he understood how much I appreciated it. I let him have his space back after a few songs. A really funny thing, (to me at least because I sure felt like an idiot afterwards), was that there was some guy on stage setting things up who sure looked a lot like Mark. I had not seen Mark close up and in person before but I had sure seen lots of pictures. I do not think I was the only one a little fooled by this guy. Okay, a LOT fooled. But he looked like a Mark who had lost a lot of weight. He did not look right and I was very confused but the resemblance was so close that I was just sure it was him. Who else could it be I kept asking myself. Does anyone know? Does his brother help out? Who was that man? And before anyone played a tall blonde guy in a dark blue ski cap, dark pants, and shirt was walking around the bar area. In the dark he greatly resembled Mark. Were there people there TRYING to resemble him? And speaking of resemblances, were Chris Cornell and friends standing to my right or am I imagining things? Suddenly Mark appeared on stage. I must have been fighting to keep my space because I sort of missed it. Everyone started screaming and I looked up and there he was; nostrils right over my head as planned. (And it was not the mysterious look-alike from the stage). I had no idea what the songs were at the time. I tried to remember the first two but then it was gone. I was mesmerized by him and his voice and his behavior (and I was very occupied with keeping my single square foot of space). The very first thing I noticed was that his eyes seemed to be rolling in his head a bit when he first started. He seemed almost unable to focus them; they were closed much of the time. One might think he was high or drunk; I do not know; I certainly do not care. His voice was what I expected and much more. I have listened to it for so long on hi-fidelity stereo and vinyl that I know exactly what it sounds like. It is so powerful and rich; velvet gravel. His voice seemed to warm up after a few songs. But he seemed to be in almost physical pain up there; especially when he wasn’t singing. Hands in the same position, one on the top near the microphone and one in the middle of the stand. Occasionally there was a switch of hands. All the beauty is in his voice; no need for a stage presence. Everything was truly surreal and dreamlike. Not a little of that is due to my having been awake for 22 hours by the time he hit the stage, a little drunk and dehydrated to boot. Mark was in excellent form in my opinion and limited experience. His voice was very strong, flexible, and beautiful. The band was tight and flawless. It was a long powerful performance and a seamless mix of “standards” and Field Songs; ballads and hard rock blended effortlessly. I was struck by the bands’ contradiction of seeming effortlessness and casualness yet flawless execution. They are all magnificent musicians. Mike Johnson is just spectacular. And Mike and Mark's perfectly synchronized artistic realtionship is evident at close range and wonderful to watch. Mark communicates with Mike if not the audience and that is all that matters. Mark’s voice is, for lack of a better description, a gift from the gods. It is just an incredible beautiful natural voice. That is why it is so powerful. His is not a practiced and choreographed performance (like Tool for example which I saw for free in an arena and which would not have been worth even the $15 this concert cost me). It is a unique and wonderous voice. I still feel, after 3 weeks, overwelmed by the performance. And Gospel Plow; I almost fainted! I do not know how long they played but there were three encores. He said almost nothing; a few thank you’s, something about “much gratitude” or something like that. My only complaint, (though more selfishness than an actual complaint), is that I would like to have heard a few accoustic pieces in the mix. His voice is certainly powerful enough to compete with everything else but I would like to have heard it alone with Mike’s unique guitar. If I may indulge myself with a fanatic anecdote: I am standing front and center staring at him, naturally. I begin to realize that it is rather uncomfortable staring at someone. Though that is the point of it all it is uncomfortable. I felt like I was being rude. One can do it from way back in the audience, but I was right under his nose looking up at him (and damn my neck hurt). I just felt rude, ridiculously. I even felt uncomfortable clapping; it seemed almost silly and sycophantic at that close range. So I would shift to look at Mike Johnson when he ‘caught’ me staring at him too many times. (There was a bit more action coming from Mike anyway). I was getting a little more comfortable with the staring thing so when he was looking at me (I am not delusional or anything; I just seemed to be in his line of site. And I do not think I am the first to speculate that he may not be very comfortable up there and may look down a lot. But that is purely speculation) Anyway, as he was ‘looking’ at me I held his gaze as a sort of personal challenge but it got a little too uncomfortable and so to ease MY discomfort, I raised my eyebrows. And he raised his at me. That is it. My little concert moment. My first ever and the only one I would ever care about, believe me. (But it sure does not beat actually having dinner with the band. When will we hear that story?) He left the stage abruptly mumbling something about having
to go to bed now. And that was it. Lights up and it was over. We walked
out and waited for a half hour in the cold for the late bus north to Roosevelt. review by Stefan I got to the Showbox (my favorite venue in Seattle) about 10 minutes before Mark's set, and was able to get a great spot. Didn't look like the show sold out. As usual, Mark and the band (which changes lineups from tour to tour) walked on stage, picked up their instruments without a word, and kicked in really hard. Right from the get-go, it was obvious that this was going to be a great show. I have never heard Mark's voice sound so strong, from the songs he roared on to the softer crooners. The band was tight, and the rhythm section in particular was solid. They played some songs from the new album, which were absolutely incredible: One Way Street (wow!), Field Songs, Pill Hill Serenade.There were the usual songs: Pendulum, Mockingbirds, Hotel, the River Rise (I love the new intro-She Done Too Much - which also works well as a stand alone song).but damn if he didn't rip into one of my favorite Screaming Trees songs: Gospel Plow. I've been to a few Lanegan shows over the last few years, and he usually stops playing after about 60 minutes, but this show lasted about 80 minutes and the band came out for 3 encores! The future really looks bright for Mark Lanegan fans. One sad note: I was planning on recording the show, but had problems with my MiniDisc.did anyone out there record the show??? I would love to get a copy of it (or any show from the current tour). Please help! zilliouxs@yahoo.com. THANKS! Pendulum |