Brian Just at Hexagon Bar on 1/18/07
By: Bob Longmore
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Brian Just - Photo by Bob Longmore
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Brian Just could have been that man, but here he is in 2007 singing timeless songs that work just as well at a bar as they would if he were sitting on your front porch.
Brian Just looks like a folk singer. His pointy elbows splayed out from his body, his long thin fingers on his left hand stretched to impossible chords as the fingers on his right hand fingerpick a symphony, his voice soft, but strong coming not from his throat, but from a deeper place. He delivered the opening line of “Open Air” with an ease and confidence that betrayed his round baby face. Josie and Rick Robot from Tuesday’s Robot—adding piano and banjo, respectively—joined Just on this night.
Between songs, Just spoke softly, slowly, introducing himself and his accompaniment, hawking CDs, thanking the crowd; but this standard banter somehow seems more significant when Just says them. He has a slow confident speech that invites you in, warm and generous, not in the least intimidating.
“Duluth” is one of my favorite songs from the past year and with the help of subtle keyboards and banjo, the song slowed down into an almost psychedelic folk form. Just paid homage to an obvious musical influence of his, Townes Van Zandt, in the first lines of the song: “Townes says 10 percent is in your fingers/ Another 10 is flowing through your throat/ 80 comes from sign posts and gravel roads/ That’s folk music and it comes from on the road.”
Just’s easy grace makes everything he does look effortless; like the music is just flowing through him, unrehearsed, as if he is just a vehicle for the sounds that come from inside him. Signaling the change from verse to chorus, he sometimes lets out a “Yeah!” as he snaps his head backward away from the microphone. It seems natural, like a signal to the audience that says, “Come along with me.
I think, for the most part, the audience was willing. I looked around to see mostly rapt faces. Except for the clown who stood next to me and said, “Man. We need a mosh pit in here,” most people were silently staring to the stage. I think that is what Just’s music does to people—it puts them in a relaxed state. The matronly saint of the Hexagon, Rosie, grabbed some folding chairs and set them up on the floor so more people could sit. She too sensed that this was not rowdy bouncing-in-place music, but contemplative vignettes of life.
After playing solo for so long, Just said it felt great to share the stage with the Tuesday’s Robot players. Rick Robot and his banjo added specks of color to Just’s already full-sounding guitar playing, but the vocal harmonies were the biggest spark added by the trio. While I believe that Just’s guitar playing could have stood on its own without ever missing the piano and banjo, the beautiful, ghostly “oohs” and “aahs” were an incredible boost to the songs.
Brian Just plays infrequently as a solo artist (he also plays guitar in Beight) and that is a shame, because I think his name deserves mention whenever we talk about the Americana music scene here in the Twin Cities. This kind of old-time campfire music can be chilling if done right and Just knows how to chill to the bone.
Location Info:
Hexagon Bar
Artist Info: Brian Just
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