By: Ryan Ruff Smith
Devendra Banhart is a hard character to pin down. At first glance, the long hair and flowing beard have you convinced that he’s a hippie, but the way he approaches his music reveals a more indie aesthetic. Then he opens his mouth and releases an inimitable warble of a voice, and you have to wonder if he is actually of this world at all. But his casual banter and childish sense of humor bring him right back down to earth.
Devendra Banhart
Saturday evening, Banhart took the stage with five other musicians and proceeded to charm an intimate audience into a footloose frenzy over the course of his set. Though the tickets only had his name printed on them, he insisted on a more communal aesthetic and didn’t hesitate to occasionally digress into one of his bandmate’s tunes and play a supporting role. He informed us early on that the band was called Spiritual Boner, and continued to remind us of that fact throughout the set.
Early on, an enthused fan yelled out “I love you!” Banhart responded, “I love you too, and I want to dance with you and I want to rock and roll with you, but I’m going to take it slow. I’m good at every base, and we’re still just at first base.”
This proved to be an accurate blueprint for the show. Banhart and the gang started out by romancing the crowd with some of the mellow folk ruminations that characterized his first few records. An early highlight was a full band take on “At the Hop” from Nino Rojo. The song was slowed down and augmented with full folk harmonies that wouldn’t have been out of place on the Oh Brother, Where Art Thou? soundtrack. It was a rewarding revision of one of his very best songs, brimming with sweetness, playfulness, melancholy and strangeness.
Banhart and company took advantage of the opportunity to show off a number of new songs from their forthcoming album, Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon. “Seahorse,” started out in the realm of the mellower material, but then shifted into an energetic 3/4 middle section which built into a full-on Californian classic-rock jam. “I think we’re at second base now,” Banhart told the excited audience, “or maybe first and a half base.”
Throughout the next few songs, the band dipped their toes into samba, reggae and even ‘50s style jukebox rock, the latest in Banhart’s ever-expanding palette of stylistic modes. The hilarious “Shabop Shalom” told the tale of love with a rabbi’s daughter as Banhart channeled the smooth sounds of a malt-shop crooner.
Banhart took his communal approach to the next level by inviting someone from the crowd to hop up on stage and share a song. He helped a young girl onto the stage, handed her his guitar and left the stage to watch from the sidelines. She seemed right at home onstage, and even joked with the (rest of the) audience, enthusing “I am spiritually hard right now.” She played an original tune, her confident voice showing a similarity to Banhart’s in its stylized vibrato.
When Banhart returned to the stage, he had ditched his shirt. He hugged his guest performer and encouraged her to share her MySpace URL with the crowd. His reentry marked a new peak in energy; he was rounding third base and running for home. He let the band do most of the playing from that point on, and took on the role of an energetic front man prancing shirtless around the stage. They kicked off with “Long Haired Child,” an energetic rocker from 2006’s Cripple Crow. “Lover” from Smokey Rolls Down Thunder Canyon fit right in with the older, more familiar material. It was a fun, funky come-on that cast Banhart as some sort of hairy, elfin Marvin Gaye.
The band closed off the set with a slightly more subdued classic, “Little Yellow Spider” from Nino Rojo. But they upped the energy again for the encore, treating the crowd to rowdy performances of “This Beard Is for Siobhán” and the telling “I Feel Just Like a Child.” This energetic closer offered a simple explanation of Banhart’s enigmatic persona—the boundless energy, the sophomoric humor and the sweet, simple insights of his music all stem from a simple, childlike wonder.
Location Info:
First Avenue
Artist Info: Devendra Banhart
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