Two Good Ones

I've been lucky enough to attend two excellent rock concerts in the past 30 days. What makes them unusual is that each was considerably better than my already-high expectations.

David Byrne (Kiva Auditorium of the Albuquerque Civic Center; Sept. 28) billed his concert as playing the "songs of David Byrne and Brian Eno". Although he did pull a chestnut or two from their old album of the '80's ("My Life in the Bush of Ghosts"), and there were a couple from a new release, called "Everything That Happens Will Happen Today" (and how can one dispute that argument?), the real thrust of the concert was re-creating some of the Talking Heads' supreme performances of the '80's, "Stop Making Sense" era.

"I Zimbra" came early, signaling that Byrne & Co. (good, sizable backing band) were bringing the good stuff. "Life During Wartime" and "Crosseyed and Painless" were two more selections from that period, both performed as brilliantly as one could hope. Byrne also played a couple earlier THeads numbers that were shown in Jonathan Demme's aforementioned classic concert film, "Heaven" (not the a capella duet, though) and the original big hit single, Al Green's "Take Me to the River".

For those who caught that classic tour (I'm thinking 1983), this brought back wonderful memories. For those who missed it, you may have another chance. Byrne has ruled out reunion with the other Heads, but this is a more-than-satisfactory alternative. I hope I haven't inappropriately spilled the beans about his somewhat false billing.

The Kiva Auditorium itself was a pleasant surprise as a venue to see a performance. Maybe 1500 seats, and all of them good ones. For intimacy, though, the Conor Oberst show at KTAO's performance tent here in Taos has it far beaten.

Oberst is also known as Bright Eyes, and he has shown himself to be a bit of a shape-shifter, taking on a variety of forms and an even greater variety of sidemen. With his last Bright Eyes album, he announced that the Bright Eyes membership was permanent. So, naturally, he's thrown it overboard and recorded with a whole new group, which is called the Mystic Valley Band.

Oberst is a native of Omaha, but he spent much of the last 10 years or so in New York, playing the indie clubs and making a great name for himself while writing and recording proficiently. In "Cassadaga", his last B.E. album, he hit the road and recorded folk-influenced songs of Americana. His newest album, titled simply "Conor Oberst", follows on that track.

Oberst is often compared to Dylan, and there are many reasons why. His upbringing in the midwest, his early emergence, his love of the road and performing, his incredibly profuse output, his stinging lyrics, mastery of a variety of modern musical formats, and the list goes on. I think he also shares that love-hate relationship with fame and the crowds (such as The Band described about Dylan in "Stage Fright") which could also be called Kurt Cobain Disease.

Oberst seems to have chosen the path Dylan walked, mid-70's Rolling Thunder Review. At KTAO, he even wore a very similar brightly-colored fedora-with-a-band-and-feather, which he messed with quite alot on stage.

The songs were mostly from the new Oberst album, though there was a mysterious EP release on sale at the concert (for $20 or so; I had to pass). He also played a Dylan song, "Corinna, Corinna", and the Paul Simon rocker "Kodachrome", which set up his rousing encore finale, "I Don't Want to Die in the Hospital".

Oberst's voice has matured and no longer wavers the way it did (or, perhaps, the way he chose to make it do) on past studio albums; it was potent and dynamic. His band was thoroughly committed--a heavy Southern rock influence, but with some quality keyboards. Oberst mostly played acoustic, focusing on enunciating his rapid lyrics, and let them perform the complex instrumentals, though keeping a close, "bright" eye on it all.

I won't say that every song killed, but by the end, everyone walked away thrilled, fulfilled, and amazed at the miracle of his coming to this little town to play for a few hundred souls, in a tent with insufficient acoustics, in the back of our town's solar-powered radio station.