In the last couple of weeks I’ve been at shows by Molly Tuttle and Sierra Ferrell (I recommend clicking both those links just for the front-page portraits). Herewith thoughts on the genres, performances, and sound quality.
Tuttle is post-bluegrass and Ferrell is, um, well, Wikipedia says “folk, bluegrass, gypsy jazz, and Latin styles” which, OK, I guess, but it doesn’t mention pure old-fashioned country, her strongest flavor. These days, “Americana” is used to describe both these artists. The notion that Americana implies “by white people” is just wrong, check out Rhiannon Giddens’ charming video on the origin of the banjo. (Ms Giddens is a goddess; if you don’t know about her, check her out.)
Both bands (for brevity, just Molly and Sierra) feature mandolin, fiddle, stand-up bass, and acoustic guitar. Molly adds banjo, Sierra drums and occasional electric guitar. Both offer flashy instrumental displays; Molly adds big group meltdowns, veering into jam-band territory. Both women sing divinely and the bands regularly contribute lovely multi-part harmonies.
I think that Americana just now is one of the most interesting living musical directions. These artists are young, are standing on firm foundations, and are pushing into new territory. Judging by the crowds these days I’m not alone, so for those who agree, I’ll offer a few words on each performance.
Molly Tuttle and Golden Highway at the Hollywood Theatre · Interestingly, this is the same venue where I first saw Sierra, back in March of 2022. It’s intimate and nice-looking and has decent sound.
The crowd was pretty grey-haired; the previous week we’d taken in an Early Music Vancouver concert dedicated to Gabrieli (1557-1612) and the age demographic wasn’t that different, except for Molly’s fans wear jeans and leather and, frequently, hippie accoutrements. It dawns on me that bluegrass is in some respects a “classical” genre; It has lots of rules and formalisms and an absolute insistence on virtuosic skill.
She played a generous selection of favorites (El Dorado, Dooley’s Farm, Crooked Tree) and exceptionally tasty covers (Dire Wolf, She’s a Rainbow). The band was awesomely tight and Molly was in fine form.
In most pictures of Molly she has hair, but during her concerts she usually tells the story of how as a young child she had Alopecia universalis (total all-body hair loss) and, particularly if the concert venue is warm, whips off her wig. At this show she talked about how, on behalf of a support organization, she’d visited a little Vancouver girl with Alopecia, and how sad she was that the kid couldn’t come to the show since the Hollywood is also a bar. It was touching; good on her.
Molly, a fine singer and songwriter, is also a virtuoso bluegrass guitar flat-picker and her band are all right up there, so the playing on balance was probably a little finer than Sierra’s posse offered. And as I mentioned, they do the occasional jam-band rave-up, which I really enjoyed.
But their sound guy needs to be fired. I was at the show alone and thus found a corner to prop myself up that happened to be right behind this bozo’s desk. He had a couple of devices that I didn’t recognize, with plenty of sliders, physical and on-screen, and he was hard at work from end to end “enhancing” the sound. He threw oceans of echo on Molly’s voice then yanked it out, injected big rumble on song climaxes, brightened up the banjo and mandolin so they sounded like someone driving nails into metal, and slammed the balance back and forth to create fake stereo when licks were being traded. This sort of worked when they were doing the extended-jam thing, but damaged every song that relied on sonic truth or subtlety, which was most of them. Feaugh. Concert sound people should get out of the fucking way and reproduce what the musicians are playing. I guess Molly must like this or she wouldn’t have hired him? I wish she could come out and hear what it sounds like though.
Anyhow, it’s a good band that plays good songs with astonishing skill. If you’re open to this kind of music you’d enjoy their show.
The last encore was Helpless. I’m not 100% sure that Molly knew what she was in for. Every grey-haired Canadian knows that tune and every word of its lyrics. So as soon as she was three words in, the whole audience was booming along heartily, having a fine time. Quite a few grizzled cheeks were wet with tears, but I thought Molly looked a little taken aback. She went with it, and it was lovely.
Sierra Ferrell at the Orpheum · This hall is one of Vancouver’s two big venues where the symphony plays, operas are presented, and so on. It opened in 1927 and the decor is lavish, tastefully over-the-top, but ignore the execrable ceiling art.
Sierra Ferrell, singing Whispering Waltz.
On this picture, my usually-trusty Pixel 7 failed me. The focus is unacceptably bad but I’m running it anyhow to share Sierra’s outfit, which is as always fabulous. She kicked up her heels once or twice, revealing big tall Barbie-pink boots under that dress.
The audience had plenty of greybeards but on balance was way younger than Molly’s, with a high proportion of women dressed to the nines in Western-wear finery and some of the prettiest dresses I’ve seen in years. It was really a lot of fun just to look around and enjoy the shapes that Sierra’s influence takes.
Sierra is a wonderful singer but those songs, wow, I’m sure some of them will be loved and shared long after I and she are in the grave. Her set didn’t leave out any of the favorites. There were a few covers, notably Me and Bobby McGee, which was heartbreaking and then rousing. Before starting Sierra acknowledged her debt to Janis Joplin, whom I never saw, but I felt Janis there in spirit.
Everybody is going to have a few favorites among her songs. The three-song sequence, Lighthouse, The Sea, and Far Away Across the Sea, was so beautiful it left me feeling emptied. They turned Far Away into a rocker with a bit of extended jamming and it was just wonderful.
But the thing about a Sierra Ferrell show isn’t just the songs or the singing or the playing, it’s her million watts of charisma, and the connection with the crowd. People kept bringing her floral garlands and, after “Garden”, someone ran up to the stage with a little potted plant. There are some people who, when they get up on the stage, you just can’t take your eyes off them, and she’s one of those. I’m pretty confident that if she keeps holding it together and writing those songs, she’s headed for Dolly Parton territory in terms of fame and fortune.
Any complaints? Yes, this was the first stop on a new tour and the sound was initially pretty rough, but they got it fixed up so that’s forgivable. There’s still a problem: When Sierra leans into a really big note she overloads whatever mike they’re using; not sure what the cure is for that.
Another gripe: Sierra used to have a part of the set where the band gathered around an old-school radio mike with acoustic instruments and played in a very traditional style. I think she shouldn’t leave that out.
Finally, one more problem: Vancouver loves Sierra just a little too much. Every little vocal flourish, every cool little instrumental break, every one of those got a huge roar of approval from the crowd, which, fine, but some of those songs take the level way down and then back up again in a very artful way, and I wished the crowd would shut up, let Sierra drive, and clap at the end of the song.
Americana · Like I said, this is where some of the most interesting living artists are digging in and doing great work. Highly recommended.
