Tonight at Seattle's Paramount Theater, one of the Americas milling through the lobby is Neko Case's America—made up of Seattlite aging urban hipsters in their late 20s or early 30s, mostly dressed in dark clothing, dark plastic-rimmed glasses, and at least a few tattoos. In other words, people who look like they do graphic design, or who are, perhaps, musicians themselves, for a living.
Then there's Merle Haggard's America—made up, for tonight, of people who've never been seen anywhere in downtown Seattle. In fact, this crowd looks like they may have teleported here straight from West Texas or upstate Louisiana. They take their facial hair and their cowboy boots seriously and one's first inclination is that it'll be interesting watching Merle's America become exposed to Neko Case, and vice versa.
Neko Case is here to blow your mind
When Case hits the stage, an audible hush falls over the crowd. A few men whistle (she's tall and gorgeous, and she's wearing a dress that's at least partly see-through, accessorized by painfully high heels), but she wastes no time responding. She leans into "I Am a Poor Wayfaring Stranger" with so much sorrow and longing, so much innate vocal power, that there's no longer any question about whether this pretty girl can deliver.For the next hour, Case and Her Boyfriends stride through their musical catalog, including songs from her most recent effort, Fox Confessor Brings the Flood. Among them, the extraordinarily well-performed and well-received "Maybe Sparrow," and "That Teenage Feeling," a personal favorite. She doesn't pander to Merle's America, but they get the message: Neko Case is here to blow your mind.
And indeed she does. With the help of her oustanding backup band (Her Boyfriends), most notably, banjo/pedal steel player John Rauhause, Case manages to impress upon the crowd enough intrigue as to cause them to give her what is, arguably, one of the best receptions a relatively unknown opening act has ever received.
There's barely time to wrap one's head around how effortlessly her giant voice pours out of her mouth when her set is over and it's time to saddle up for Merle Haggard.
During her set, Case had asked, "Are yall ready to see the great Merle Haggard?" The audience applauded, but one woman called out, "We're just here to see you." Out in the lobby, as many members of Neko Case's crowd head back to their Capitol Hill and Ballard neighborhoods, Merle's America crowds around Neko's merchandise table; but only as long as the short break lasts.
When it's time for Merle, it's time for Merle
Merle Haggard, it is well-known, came to music after serving a lengthy term in San Quentin prison. It was during his sentence that country crooner Johnny Cash showed up for a performance. Merle sat in the front row, mesmerized by Cash's presence, and later attributed his presence in music to that experience.So it's touching when, after hopping through a number of well-performed classics like "Mama Tried," and "The Bottle Let Me Down," Haggard introduces the audience to the notion that he and his wife are working on a Johnny Cash tribute record. They quickly roll into a stunning cover version of "Jackson," much to the crowd's delight.
Another highlight of Haggard's set is his performance of "As Time Goes By," which brings with it the sweet intimacy of your grandaddy singing to you in the living room, moreso than a living legend in a giant theater.
There's no secret about why Merle Haggard is a legend in his field. His songwriting is catchy and unforgettable, and his backup band puts on a seamless performance, from harmonica to saxophone, piano, dobro, and trumpet.
It is Haggard's performance of "Let's Put a Woman in Charge," however that brings out the glaring differences between our two Americas. "I had a thought several years ago," he says, introducing the song. "I should've played the odds at Vegas, but anyway ... I had this feeling Hillary Clinton would become President." And the crowd goes wild ... alternately booing and cheering heartily. "Maybe this is the wrong town [to bring that up]," he later admits; but not before singing the catchy chorus, "Let's put a woman in charge ... this country owes it to Hillary."
Whether or not it's the wrong thing to say to this crowd, the rest of Haggard's set hardly suffers. He has the crowd in his pocket, anyway. At least for now, here in Seattle, the two Americas have agreed to disagree.
