Sets And The City: Adult Lullabies, Chris Garneau Delivers Somber Strokes for Rowdy Folks

posted in: Music News

Hello and welcome to my brand spankin’ new weekly column Sets and the City. I’d be bluffing if I claimed fictional character Carrie Bradshaw wasn’t an inspiration. She waxes wise about all things sex- and relationship-related, while I attend the dopest shows in New York and report back to OurStage. Practically twins, right? Not only are we both writers, but also we both rock curly locks and share an adoration of (read: obsession with) Manhattan. But seriously, this column is intended to illuminate the live music experience of both well known and lesser-known bands based in or passing through NYC. (In addition to reviewing local concerts, I’ll be reviewing forthcoming record releases on occasion as well.)

Despite the alarmingly frigid temperatures, the Chris Garneau-headlined lineup drew a comfortable crowd to Hudson Street’s intimate 92YTribeca Friday night. (So comfortable in fact that my main complaint was the chatty bar-dwellers who refused to quiet down and settle into the show.) The 27-/28-year-old (Garneau was supposedly 26 in May 2009 so that’s what I’m working with) Brooklyn-based indie singer-songwriter performed 13 tracks, kicking off his set just after 11 PM and playing ’til midnight. Garneau, dressed casually in a baggy grey tee, skinny stonewash grey-black jeans and black boots, stuck to the piano mostly, with an intermittent switch to electric guitar. Sporadic accompaniment provided courtesy of Caralee McElroy (backup vocals, synthesizer keyboard and electric guitar) and Lacey Post (backup vocals).

The stage arrangement was such that, when at the piano bench, his back was to the audience, lending a mysterious air to the poet. And a poet he is indeed, delivering somber but achingly beautiful songs in a manner that at times approaches sheep or goat. I intend this in the best possible sense, implying that his voice trembles here and there, quivering to impressive “ and deliberate “ effect. Even beyond his piano prowess, his vocal chords are his chief unique quality. Pixie-like with his dainty appearance and delicate demeanor, Garneau’s sound proves far from meek. While he himself is soft-spoken, his lyrics and multi-instrumental talents are sucker-punch powerful. A passionate and emotive tour de force.

Focusing on love, loss, longing and nostalgia (oh, and death), the evening’s soundtrack took on a melancholy tone, Garneau’s more whimsical ditties omitted for the most part. Missing, to my mind, were Fireflies, No More Pirates and, to my great dismay, Dirty Night Clowns. It’s wicked and wonderful numbers like these that truly soar. All tracks twinkle, but these playful pieces are audible manifestations of antique wind-up toys, the classic jack-in-the box with a pop! All three hail from his latest record, El Radio, which dropped in July 2009. I was particularly bothered by the absence of DNC because, more recently, Garneau collaborated with ROCK*iT FiLMS to create a luminous and intricate video involving marionettes and deserted carnival grounds. The dark but quasi-comical masterpiece posted, aptly, the day before Halloween and can be watched on YouTube and Vimeo. To date it has been viewed over 500,000 times between the two.

I was happy to hear a few recognizable songs plucked from El Radio, among them Cats & Kids and Hands on the Radio. The former is stripped of some subtle nuances when transformed to live venue version, such as the sparkling music box sampling, but, as with every pause between tracks, it commanded ample applause and warm-hearted heckling from friends. And, despite being about some strain of abandonment, the overall vibe is accepting of said departure. Others, like Not Nice, off of his debut Music for Tourists (2006), would have made me maudlin had I not stuck with water. Lyrics like You’re not nice. I’d rather leave you alone. I’m gonna leave you alone, hit close to home, further reinforcing Garneau’s laudable ability to capture the human condition within his work.

Overall, it proved a successful and satisfying show. The tunes were flawlessly executed (especially loved the harmonies), the listeners were receptive (albeit a bit juvenile with their harassment, however well meant) and the space was perfect. Brownie points for a haven safe from sweat; chairs and tables and decorum trumping the all too common raucous rock show. Still more props to a young man with a seemingly old soul who can bring it without the bells and whistles oft relied upon by other acts. The cherry on top? Garneau is gracious and appreciative, and a witty brand of emo who knows how to evoke a laugh here and there without trying too hard. My advice? Catch him if you can. Wherever his music takes him next, I recommend you lock down a ticket if he’s in your area.