@tamar.agam

I got the opportunity to see Black Rebel Motorcycle Club at Thalia Hall on October 3rd; a stop on their tour celebrating the 20th anniversary of the 2005 album Howl. Before this concert, I had never heard of their opener, Humanist; but they were a pleasant surprise. The frontman had the look of Vincent Gallo in Buffalo ‘66, down to the tight pants and tense shuffling about. Still, they made a lot of noise (much to the audience’s delight). Their sound was often reminiscent of BRMC, and they did a good job of priming the audience for what was about to come.

When it was finally time, Peter Hayes took stage left in front of a soft golden light, emulating a rising sun that illuminated him in a halo. Beginning solo on Devil’s Waitin’, he opened the concert with the ominous gentleness of a sunrise over Western plains. Robert Beem quietly entered stage right to finish the song out, before their smooth transition into Shuffle Your Feet. The two frontmen effortlessly tossed vocal and instrument roles back and forth throughout the concert. From harmonica to trombone, they flaunted their musical abilities, and at times it was hard to believe that it was all live. And throughout the whole performance, I was continuously struck with how perfectly their voices compliment one another.

Most of the concert was dedicated, of course, to playing Howl, but a highlight was Beem’s timid and endearing rendition of the rarely performed acoustic Mercy. The few other hits they performed shone, and carried them throughout their discography— from their “protest song” (US Government), to the classics (like Red Eyes and Tears).

It took a while for either to speak, and throughout the concert, it was Beem who would make occasional comments. Mostly, he made claims that they were “finally learning how to play” the album, 20 years after its release. But the music spoke for itself, and there was no indication of anything other than expert execution of a classic record. These are genuine, honest-to-goodness musicians; ever focused on the music, and concerned with the audience only as witnesses to their craft. Hayes spoke but once as they exited the stage, to say a quiet “thank you”.

(And hey, who would complain about a concert that ended with getting Robert Beem’s pick?)