Mason Jennings Concert a “Blood”-bath

I know this may instill the kind of Jennings' fan reaction as, say, Bob Dylan's decision to go electric, but I haven't always been 100% sold on Mason's voice. He has an odd habit of throwing in a signature off-key rhyme now and then that reminds me of, well, Bob Dylan. Kinda like how Buddy Holly always threw in that "a-hoo-hoo-hoo" thing. And sometimes his lyrics are just plain corny, and verge on nursery-rhyme simplicity. As a songwriter/guitar player, however, he shines, weaving tales of love, loss, traveling, family, friends, religion, and well, "life in general", over lazy, catchy melodies that make you think he'd be a helluva great guy to have around on a camping trip. Unless you were in a series of "Survivor", because he'd probably chop all the wood and build all the shelters and catch all the food and make everybody like him. He just has an honest, everyman quality to him that eventually led me to overlook the voice and learn to appreciate his ability to write and sing at a truly human level.

As it turns out, it was the quirkiness of his voice that may have kept me coming back for more. Mason has said that he doesn't really care if people like it or not: it just means he's doing something different. He's released 12 albums in as many years, and seems more concerned about just writing songs his way than finding a sound that "everyone will like".

His latest album, "Blood Of Man" (released Sep. 15), which he recorded, mastered, and played all the instruments on during a two-week recording binge, finds Jennings returning to the four-piece rock band format. It's a strong album, with plenty of hooks, solid songwriting, and a more 'focused' feel than his solo acoustic albums tend to have. You can almost hear him smiling throughout, despite several of the songs having incredibly dark lyrics about suicide, God, murder, drug overdoses, and fratricide. Whatever this album indicates for his future direction is anybody's guess, but the near-capacity crowd that gathered at the Commodore had their hearts and minds open to whatever he was offering.

Opening act Crash Kings got things started early and caught most of us off guard. In fact, by the time the band was midway through its first song, anybody left without a table was making their way to the floor and pushing to the front of the stage. Maybe it was the fact that lead singer/keyboardist Tony Beliveau was rocking a customized Hohner clav with a giant whammy bar. Yes, I was one of the guys who rushed up there to see what was going on, too. If you don't know what a clav is, or what it sounds like, listen to Stevie Wonder's "Superstition"-the main riff in the song is played on a clav. 

Tony took a moment after the first song to express their surprise and gratitude at just how great it feels to have everybody on their feet right off the bat. "You guys are amazing. I wish we had shows like this back home!". It could just be that Mason Jennings' crowd are a friendly, hospitable bunch, but Crash Kings earned their applause throughout their all-too-brief set.

What started off promising to be a set of Maroon 5-lite adult contemporary piano pop turned into a hard-hitting keyboard-driven rock show without guitars. Drummer Jason Morris delivered a powerful, high energy performance, and Tony's brother Mike, on bass, rounded out rhythm section duties with solid grooves and some pretty impressive solo shredding. Proof that you can definitely rock large without guitars. And it doesn't hurt when your lead singer can belt it out like Freddy Mercury and Chris Cornell (who Tony also tours/performs with). Hopefully these guys make it back for a headlining tour next time.

The Commodore never ceases to surprise me when it comes to providing the perfect atmosphere, regardless of the band or genre. As the crowds rushed back to the bar to stock up on refreshments between sets, the house music (a mix of reggae and some Blind Willie Johnson) and lighting (purple spots and trippy patterns, d00d!) were enhanced by the crowd-provided smoke machine. The venue obviously does their research, as there was no need for a barricade, and the bar was actually providing REAL glasses. Most of the shows I've been to here feature plastic cups and a riot-police security squad between the stage and teeming hordes in the pit. Tonight's audience was obviously there for a good ol' sing-along celebration.

With a brief, smiling "hello", and a wave, Jennings and his band (Chris/bass, Jacob/guitar, and Brian/drums) kicked things off with "Pittsburgh", and "The Field", two lyrically depressing but toe-tapping songs about insanity and war, from the new album. Without the benefit of a barricade, it seemed like I would have to work to get any pictures tonight, but a group of courteous fans were more than willing to share their spot at the front of the stage. Maybe it's just serendipity, or perhaps everyone has a personal tale to tell of their experience with Mason, but they told me they'd just ran into Mason and his band at the Indian Gate restaurant and how he took the time to pose for pictures and sign some autographs. I mentioned how odd it was that I had eaten Indian food tonight too, and how fortunate it was that if I burped (pit-burps! ugh!) I could blame it on them. They laughingly confessed that they had actually spotted him on the street and followed him into the restaurant. Most rock stars might be put off by this sort of adoration, but he took it all in stride and was very gracious about it.



For the better part of the next two hours, we were treated to a wide variety of his extensive catalog, with a minimum of between-song banter. Jennings writes songs for many occasions, and they all seemed to flow together very well, with each song building the momentum, or easing the vibe for the next. Any fans who wanted to hear the new songs were definitely rewarded, as they played 9 of the 10 tracks from the hard release (there is a bonus track available on iTunes). To paraphrase AC/DC, "If you wanted 'Blood....' you got it".

Just past the midway point, the band took a break while Jennings returned to his roots with two of his solo acoustic classics: the feel-bad-then-good hit "Your New Man" (featuring the grin-inducing lyric "Goodness garage, his name is probably Rog"), and "Jackson Square".

Any doubts or complaints I had about "the voice" were finally laid to rest at this point. It's amazing just how "human" he sounds on his own. No straining, no faking it, just a guy and his guitar and a room full of friends, hanging out in what could best be described as a big happy, sing-along "mush" pit. You know, like, mushy, not moshy. Anyway...

Given Jennings' fanbase within the jam-band community, I was concerned about the potential of some extended, wandering jams. However, with the exception of the meandering "Big Sur", they stayed focused and delivered a tight set that gave the fans their moneys' worth.

To close the set, they played a surprisingly heavy version of the title track from "Blood Of Man", which builds from a Hawaiian ukelele-sounding beachfire ditty to a floor-stomping rock anthem.

For most of the night, I was marveling at just how out of place guitarist Jacob Hanson seemed on a stage, but as the song hit its peak, he unleashed his inner rock god and began summoning unholy growls and feedback bursts from his hollow-body electric, seemingly on the verge of smashing his guitar and tearing his shirt off. Me and my preconceived notions. Just another example of how silly it can be to judge a book by its cover (or name), and how I could probably live for a month by eating nothing but my own words.

And with that, it was over.

No pre-last song warning, no goodbye-see ya next time. They just finished the song, nodded and waved, then walked offstage, leaving many in the room thinking: "What? It doesn't work like that, Mason! Get back up there and stay there!"

After what may just be the shortest break ever, the band came back about 30 seconds later and played not one, but two encores, prompting one over-excited female fan to jump onstage and shimmy for a slightly startled but amused bass player. As she was gently escorted off the stage, she appeared a little confused and upset that her dance, and particularly, the show were over.

I think we all were.

Thanks for the music, guys. Come back soon.

Best,
Vancouver


ps: you know that smell of Tandoori and Pale Ale burps that kept wafting up to you? It was the chick beside me.



Set:

Pittsburgh
The Field
Tourist
Ulysses
Black Wind Blowing
Be Here Now
Soldier Boy
Ballad For My One True Love

*Solo*
Your New Man
Jackson Square

Memphis, Tennessee
Bullet
City of Ghosts
Ain't No Friend of Mine
Sing Out
Big Sur
Lonely Road
Blood Of Man

Encore 1:

Hospitals And Jails
Darkness Between The Fireflies
Crown

Encore 2:

Nothing
Living In The Moment