concert reviews

Chatham County Line, Red Light Cafe, Atlanta, January, 2005

By newoldtymer ⋅ November 10, 2007 ⋅ Email this post ⋅  Print this post ⋅ Post a comment

I, like everyone, I’m guessing, go to shows seeking that moment of transcendence when the audience and the band meld into one big ball of happiness and agreement. That moment came at the end of Chatham County Line’s second set when they covered the Monroe Brothers’ “What Would You Give in Exchange for your Soul” and followed with their fantastic original “Dark Clouds”. The barflies in the back finally got quiet and instead drank up Chatham County Line’s wonderful bluegrass brew. It was a sight, I tell you.I got the feeling CCL could have kept everyone happy all evening if they had simply chosen to play the Old Favorites for this tough crowd made largely of pickers and their buddies who were there for the informal jam session preceding CCL’s set (you knew the audience had to be musicians, cuz the clap-along that broke out during “Dark Clouds” stayed strong all the way to the end and kept perfect time). But the bulk of CCL’s show was originals from their debut CD and their new “Route 23”, due next month. Yes, they played mountain-mens’ versions of Gillian Welch’s “Elvis Presley Blues” and Wilco’s “End of the Century”, but they did it out of love for those tunes, not to reel people in. And right there’s the beauty of CCL - how they are working to distinguish themselves within the rigid, conservative standards of what makes a good bluegrass band. They wear the suits and crowd the single microphone, but they don’t want to merely replicate an ideal already realized by others. Their deep respect for the bluegrass tradition is right out there for all to see, yet they work hard to make their own unique imprint on the genre.

With the North Carolina state flag hung behind them, Dave, their guitarist and unassuming lead singer, spoke kindly of their home and invited the crowd to check out all the great music to be found there. Apparently, the Chatham county line was the place they’d find themselves when they would have to admit they were lost, searching (in their early days) for their practice space – hence the name.

John Teer is a force to be reckoned with. When Dave, Greg, the bass player, and John would harmonize, either John stood twice the distance from the mike as the others or, if he got closer in, would hold the mandolin flat at neck level and sing into it so the sound of his voice would bounce off the instrument and into the mike (I swear, for an instant, I could hear the resulting reverberations of the vibrating mandolin, but I probably just imagined that.)

CCL are exciting to watch: Typically, bluegrass pickers’ fingers fly, and perhaps boot toes are tapping, but that’s about it as far as movement goes; CCL, on the other hand, bob and dart before the mike like moths at the flame, and, although they looked a bit crowded at times, making it harder to watch their fingerwork, the interplay was quite affecting. I can’t recall watching bluegrass played where the energy came from the movement of the players, and not just the music. All in all, it was just very thrilling to witness niche-carving as it happens.