Good Luck To Us All

Is folksy Americana indie-pop-rock music my typical cup of tea? Absolutely not, but that’s the kind of show I found myself at on Monday night at an absolutely packed First Avenue in downtown Minneapolis. I always tell people that the worst thing you can do is put yourself in a box when it comes to music. I don’t care if it’s uncool to like something or if it’s not what your friends are listening to: if a piece of music speaks to your heart, listen, even if it’s not what you typically listen to. I hear so many people come to me after a show and say something like, “That looked and sounded like a really cool show from what I read on the blog.” I’ll often follow that up with, “It was! Why weren’t you there?!” and the answer is inevitably, “I didn’t think that was my thing.” You are allowed to have a thing, obviously, but why does that have to be set in stone? Sure, I’m a pop-punk princess with metal and hardcore tendencies, but I also love some more commercial acts, and ones some people would question as even being music. Although my taste is all over the place, one thing remains constant: the music I surround myself with makes me feel something, and saying the headliner on Monday night made me feel something would be an understatement.

New York City-based Wild Pink was the only opening act on Monday night, and they warmed up the audience perfectly, making sure nobody left with their band name stuck in their head. Sonically, Wild Pink is your standard indie-folk-rock-Americana sound. It’s soft and tender, but it has grit that sometimes comes from the vocals and other times from the crunchy guitars and instrumentation. Every song was a dynamic performance, and I loved it. Although they clearly paid attention to detail throughout the set, I felt the emotion was more in the spotlight, and that’s what made me fall head over heels for this act so quickly. I may have never heard their music before this set and may have never even seen their name, but within the first song, I felt like I was seeing a long-lost friend for the first time in years, and it was as refreshing as it was lovely. This is nothing new, but typically, this feeling of connection comes from banter between songs. That was not the case here. There really was no banter between songs. It was song after song with just brief pauses for the band to tune up and switch gears for the next track. This speaks volumes about the music and passion Wild Pink brings to the stage.

As great as I found Wild Pink, it was clear the audience came for one reason and one reason only. That reason is named Shakey Graves. Like I said at the beginning, folksy Americana indie-pop-rock isn’t my standard cup of tea, but I would never pass up a chance to see this man live. I first heard of Shakey Graves (born Alejandro Rose-Garcia) in November 2015, when I saw him on this same stage. Let’s pause here so you can understand what I just said. This guy has been doing this for well over a decade. He hasn’t had a fall from grace; in fact, I would almost argue that he could have played a bigger room on Monday night because First Avenue was absolutely packed to the brim. That, right there, is a testament not only to the talent of this amazing human, but also to the heart, passion, and love he brings to every show, but I digress. Back in 2015, I had no clue what I was walking into. That night, it was just a show to add to my list, a new act to check out, but I remember standing there, regretting that I couldn’t sing along to the heartfelt words Shakey Graves was singing. Fast forward to Monday night. I still couldn’t sing along to the words, but I appreciate music differently than I did back in 2015, when I didn’t care. I spent the evening with a true legend and wasn’t going to miss a single second.

Walking offstage alone to the sound of the Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood theme song, Shakey Graves instantly flashed his charm to the crowd before launching into a set that ran late into the night. The first couple of songs featured just Alejandro on stage, really showing how much emotion and vulnerability he puts into everything he does. Even as he brought his too-tight-to-be-real band on stage, you could still hear Alejandro’s passion, but it came with a bigger, more big-room sound, adding excitement and just the right amount of backend. Although a full band was on stage, I loved the respect everyone, including Alejandro, showed the music. Nothing was ever too loud. Even during solos, I felt like something was almost whispered about every note. That said, there was no lack of energy, and when it needed to be angsty, you got a subtle taste of it. What I’m trying to say is that Shakey Graves, as a solo musician and a band, doesn’t just play music; they paint with music. They give you emotion, passion, and talent all at once, creating an atmosphere you instantly get lost in.

I was utterly lost in all of the right ways as I stood there taking song after song in. I had the best intentions of counting how many songs were performed on Monday night because I am so sick of saying I wasn’t paying close enough attention to get that number, but by the time I hit song six, I realized I was wasting time and headspace. I didn’t want to count songs; I wanted to float, so I let myself go. Head in the clouds but feet firmly planted on the floor of one of my favorite spots in the world, the music of Shakey Graves didn’t just serve as a soundtrack to my Monday night; it served as a guide through an almost meditative kind of space that I didn’t see myself going to on Monday night. How does he do it? Give you so much energy, so much fiery passion, yet leave you with your head spinning among clouds? Who knows. All I know is that it was truly perfect.