Together, Ariel Pink and Cass McCombs put on a rather unusual stage show, each playing his set with the same group of musicians. Mr. Pink and Mr. McCombs were even gracious enough to remain on stage for the other’s set, selflessly falling in line with the rest of the backing band while allowing the other to step forward into the spotlight. It was an arrangement that highlighted the grassroots camaraderie that so often forms between citizens of the musical community. Throughout the evening, there were either five or six musicians on stage (it seemed to change, though I’m not certain it ever did, because everything seemed so frantic and loose), and all seemed to have arisen from some distant musical era. Most wore a grunge aesthetic, and I felt for a moment that I might have fallen backwards into a scene from Reality Bites. I wanted a dusty flannel overcoat to help fight off the cold. I might have also used a patchwork beard.
Ariel Pink’s set began innocuously, quietly looping a riff as though sound checking in a garage, free from the judgments of a paying audience. Pink eventually grabbed the microphone — one laced with an echo effect — and kick started the set, at once ending the introductory instrumental. The songs were lively and upbeat, with a smattering of falsetto included for good measure, while a lovely performance of “She’s My Girl” definitively emerged as a major high point. The innovativeness and mystery of this creature of lo-fi were clear from that first circular riff until the beginnings of a scattered applause. Between sets, the musicians retired for a cigarette break, demonstrating further the easy kinship existing within the band(s).
Cass McComb’s set brought with it the feel of a songwriter comfortable with the moment, and he quickly dashed into songs from this year’s record, Dropping the Writ, including the fantastic “Lionkiller” and “Crick in the Neck.” The chugging momentum of “Lionkiller” did well to engage the sparsely crowded venue. (It was a real shame that more didn’t brave the Virginia cold that night.) Cass even broke the seal on a new song, one called “Eavesdropping on the Competition,” a track built around a slower, country core. Unfortunately for those in attendance, he shied away from an encore, though this decision was perhaps made pardonable given that he’d already played, in effect, a double set.
In all, the set succeeded at communicating the strengths of a singer well-refined in the arts of songwriting and performance, and the music world should eagerly anticipate what’s to come from this 30-year-old Midwesterner.