throwing sparks into a starless sky

The least interesting thing you can ask me is how many times I've seen a band or a musician. I stopped counting a long time ago, but I also know numbers don't tell the whole story. Though this blog makes my obsessions abundantly clear, there are certain bands I love that will never show up in these posts, while others are woefully underrepresented. It's always a kind of a homecoming to write about the latter group, even if it means I've been an idiot to ignore them for as long I have. Crooked Fingers' show at the Mercury Lounge once more proved me a fool, a lesson for which I'm grateful.

Crooked Fingers, Mercury Lounge, November 4, 2011: Good lord, has it been six years since I last saw Crooked Fingers? I've liked the band ever since I first saw them (actually, Eric Bachmann solo) opening for Wilco in 2002, and I've attended a decent number of their shows since then. Of course, the Archers of Loaf reunion took some time, but I have to admit I've fallen behind on the band's recent work. Thus, I'm far from the best authority to report on this show -- but I'm going to do it anyway.



As a wayward fan, I appreciated the old stuff more and was happy to hear the inclusion of such songs as "Crowned in Chrome" and "New Drink for the Old Drunk." Eric shot down a request for "Sweet Maria" on account of all the cussing, but "Angelina" was a worthy substitution. An oldie furnished one of the loveliest moments of the night: a duet between Eric and singer/multi-instrumentalist Liz Durrett on "Sleep All Summer." She stepped up to the mic several other times during the show, lending her Beth Orton-like vocals to fresh and classic tracks, even if it led Eric to comment that they shouldn't let him sing while Liz is around.

Since I can't tell you which new titles they played, I'll instead comment on more obvious elements, such as the fact that this four-piece formation was, in a word, rocking. As soon as the bass kicked in, I immediately thought this may have been the fullest sound I've heard from the band, though I reserve the right to change my mind upon the event of my next Crooked Fingers gig. Right or wrong, I think of Crooked Fingers as a folk/songwriter outfit, but with the addition of two keyboards, they pulled off at least a couple of big, pop-sounding songs.

I'm absolutely positive I'll see Crooked Fingers again soon enough -- at least, before another six years have passed. But if this turns out to be their last concert appearance I catch, I won't be disappointed. For one thing, this intimate venue, a devoted crowd, and an amenable band made for a perfect combination. My favorite exchange of banter for the night started when a guy in the crowd yelled out that he loved the old stuff. A woman, apparently on her own accord, shot back that the new stuff is good too. Eric, meanwhile, heard it as something else altogether, jokingly taking the artist's view that none of it was good enough.



Chatter aside, it came back to the tunes, which is my preference anyway. For the encore, Eric and Liz returned to the stage for "Your Control" unplugged, a musician trick I eat up every time. The full band then closed out with "Typhoon," a song as epic as its title suggests. Liz even broke a string while playing, if that gives you an idea of its intensity.

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» you may be sweet talking, daddy

you may be sweet talking, daddy

I've been feeling kinda lazy about going to shows lately, especially when my friends ditch me, but I made it to this gig--and was incredibly happy I did so.

Crooked Fingers, Great American Music Hall, April 16, 2005: I realize that it's easy to fall into the trap of being a fan of so-called indie music when "your" band gets big and you scoff at the people who got into them after you (never mind the fact that, most likely, there were people who were fans before you). God knows I feel that way all the time. And it's not as if you don't want "your" band to get big; it's just that you want them to stay at a level where you can enjoy their music without a ton of other people getting in the way. But at the same time, it's nice to see little bands get more recognition, and it's great to be a part of that movement. And that's where Crooked Fingers come in.

I really, really like them, and for me, they're easily in the second tier of current active bands. I think I've seen various incarnations of Crooked Fingers at least half a dozen times by now, from the solo setup to a more fleshed-out arrangement, and this was the biggest version of the band I had yet seen: six people in all, including a trumpeter and a flautist, who did double duty with other musical responsibilities. Also, this was the first time I've ever seen them headline, so I wasn't sure what to expect.

They opened with "Islero" from the new album, and I could hear strains of Calexico when the trumpet kicked in. Unfortunately, I didn't keep a setlist, but I recall that "Bad Man Coming" was pretty different from the very spare album version. Other highlights included old favorites such as "New Drink for the Old Drunk," "The Rotting Strip," and "Call to Love," which would be a huge summertime hit single in a perfect world. For the encore, they did that thing that I know they've done before, where they go totally unplugged and bring their instruments down to the crowd and play right there, as if we were gathering around a big campfire. I know I'm a big wuss, but it put a huge smile on my face and I loved it.

I left the concert with that old feeling of having witnessed something special. I mean, I always feel great after, say, seeing the bands I love, but I get such a thrill after going to a gig that you're not entirely convinced is going to be worth your time, then getting your socks blown off. Hooray for the little guy--and at the least, it'll keep this girl coming back for more of this band and bands like it for at least a little while to come.