Pace Paw Print

Media Credit: Melissa Gandarinho Neko Case gave out signatures and took pictures with fans at the end of the show

I was curious to see who would be attending singer Neko Case's show in Tarrytown last Friday, and even more curious to see what the concert would be like in such an unlikely location. I had seen Neko Case on only one occasion before, and she was not the showcase at the time. It was in Chicago last fall, and she was singing with the New Pornographers.

The crowd in Chicago was made up of the usual mix of "scenesters", frat boys and music snobs that go hand in hand with indie shows. Yet, I couldn't expect the same thing for the Neko Case show so close to my school. After all, Neko Case lives in Chicago, and Westchester County isn't exactly known for being as hip and artsy as the Windy City. It's rare to see an indie band or solo artist come this near to the neighborhood when they're still close enough to the city to smell its garbage.

What made the prospect of the show even more unusual was the venue it was going to be performed in. Tarrytown's Music Hall is an old-style seated theater with a balcony, erected in 1885.

My suspicions that this was going to be a different kind of show than I was used to proved to be correct. The Music Hall attracted a slightly older crowd than I imagine would have shown up for Neko Case in almost any other setting, and everybody was on their best behavior. However, I can't say that this deterred me in the slightest. I like a crowded, sweaty show as much as the next person, but I didn't want some smelly lout's head blocking my view of Neko's performance. Besides, I saw a guy in a University of Texas cap and found out that he had just moved from my hometown of Austin, so I was satisfied knowing that at least he and his girlfriend were on the same plane as me.

The opening act was a man who appeared to be in his late 30's, named Eric Bachmann. He is a solo performer on acoustic guitar, and most of his songs dealt with swimming out into the ocean and drowning in despair. To be fair, he also had what he considered to be a "drinking song," which was so depressing that I wished I had had a beer to drown myself in.

Some of Bachmann's songs would have been okay if they had been distinguishable from one another at all. His voice wasn't terrible, except for when he strained it to sound like the singer from Creed, or one of those other unfortunate bands who idolize The Doors too much. One positive thing I noted during his performance was the quality of sound that the little theater offered. It wasn't enough to keep me in my seat though, and I took his poetic moping as an opportunity to get a drink and pump myself up for Neko.

When I returned, it was just a short wait for the headlining act. Six people came out to stand behind the neatly placed instruments: a backup singer, drummer, guitarist, standup bass player, keyboard/banjo player, and Neko Case on guitar and lead vocals. She opened with "If You Knew," the first track off of the live album The Tigers Have Spoken. By the second of third song, the band was already playing material off of the new album they're working on - unreleased and unheard by the public until now. It was slightly more upbeat than most of her past material, but the songs retained the same brilliant mix of folk, country, and rock that complement her otherworldly voice so well.

Her voice was unfaltering - absolutely phenomenal. I knew it could be done without studio work, because I had seen her live with the New Pornographers, but this time she was all on her own and her voice was the leading instrument in the band. Hers is unlike any other voice out there: ethereal and ungraspable, yet strong enough to knock the wind out of you.

The band was tight, and only had to stop a few times because Neko and her backup singer couldn't stop telling cheesy jokes to each other and goofing around. They were funny, but they were better when they sang together. The backup singer has a voice strong enough to stand on her own, but I had never heard anything like the harmonious melodies that the two ladies created together.

My favorite songs included the banjo and were reminiscent of bluegrass gospel, but the ones that won over the alarmingly large number of middle age suburban women were the ones which appealed to the emotions. "The Tigers Have Spoken," a song about the life of a depressed, caged tiger who is eventually shot on his chain had the crowd silent and teary-eyed.

After a powerful set, the band "finished up" with a new song, and I was appalled to see the couple next to me get up, along with some of the people sitting in front of me, to leave. I whispered to my friend that she was coming back out, and he seemed skeptical. I guess that Westchester County hasn't gotten the memo that a headlining band always comes back on for the encore, and it was frankly a little embarrassing to see a third of the crowd leave before the best part of the show was over.

Neko returned with some of her most popular songs, and ended with my favorite, "John Saw That Number." It's hard to believe, but as the lady that introduced Neko Case suggested, maybe Neko isn't too cool for the suburbs after all. I just hope the suburbs don't think they're too cool for Neko Case.

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