Come As You Are
Ryan Adams bares his soul during a recent solo
performance
By Mark Slagle
The rock-star lifestyle is fraught with many pitfalls, but
none so potentially damaging as hubris. It's simply a professional
hazard. When paying fans crowd into smoky bars just to hear you
sing, when record companies, publicists, and, yes, rock critics
constantly stroke your ego, well, how could you not get a swelled
head?
Former Whiskeytown frontman Ryan Adams is, according to
some, the latest victim of this affliction. Although Whiskeytown was
widely believed to be the Next Big Thing out of North Carolina a few
years ago, rumors of Adams' tyrannical leadership style and arrogant
posturing soon overshadowed the impressive accomplishments of the
band. Eventually, the internecine strife apparently came to a head
and Whiskeytown all but completely disbanded. Many fans thought
Adams had become more concerned with appearing in the pages of
Rolling Stone than making music.
Yet for all the rumors and innuendo, all the stories of
prima donna tantrums and bad-boy antics, Adams never treats his
audience with anything other than friendly respect. That was
certainly the case at last Tuesday's show at Local 506, the second
of two Triangle shows showcasing Adams' first solo release,
Heartbreaker.
After a boisterous opening set by former Six String
Dragster Kenny Roby, Adams shuffled onto the small stage with a
guitar and an aw-shucks smile on his face. He then launched right
into his set, showcasing most of the tracks from Heartbreaker but
also playing several as-yet-unreleased numbers. Songs like "To
Be Young (is to be sad, is to be high)" and "My Winding
Wheel" benefited immensely from the spare acoustical treatment
and the intimate nature of the venue. With nothing more than his
guitar and a harmonica, Adams held the audience rapt with tales of
heartache, woe and unrequited love. The ramblers' lament "Oh My
Sweet Carolina" was a particular favorite with the crowd, as
was "AMY."
In between songs, Adams was downright garrulous, chatting
with an appreciative crowd about his last blind date, his love of
vodka tonics and his plans to release a new album of more up-tempo
songs in February. He graciously thanked fellow bon vivant Roby and
repeatedly urged everyone to buy fellow Whiskeytowner Caitlin Cary's
new EP, Waltzie. Adams even left the door open for a reunion of some
sorts, saying that the time off from one another might be conducive
to working together again.
He also acceded the crowds' wishes and played "Come
Pick Me Up" even after explaining that he doesn't like to
perform it live. It's fortunate he was persuaded, because "Come
Pick Me Up" is one of Heartbreaker's best songs, a tale of
frustrated love and romantic confusion that sounded even better live
than it does on the album.
Critics in some quarters have compared Adams to Gram
Parsons, a facile comparison based mostly on a few casual
observations - collaborations with Emmylou Harris, and a Whiskeytown
cover of "A Song For You" on a Parsons tribute album. Yet
it's not entirely without merit. Like Parsons, Adams is an extremely
gifted songwriter with a penchant for Americana and a wonderful
sense of imagery ("I'm as calm as a fruit stand in New York,
and maybe as strange," he sang on "Damn, Sam.") He
also shares Parsons' ability to express wonder and a certain kind of
innocence without naiveté.
It's unfortunate that Adams' reputation for being
difficult, fair or not, threatens to obscure his considerable
talents as a songwriter. But Adams' strong performance and
personable manner Tuesday night seem to illustrate that he's no
longer taking his job too seriously, if he ever did. When the songs
were all played and the show finally came to an end, Adams thanked
his audience and stepped down from the stage, off his rock-star
perch and back into the crowd.
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