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I've now seen Okkervil River live, at Debaser Medis last Friday.
This was more than a trip than when X and I visited Accelerator and Way Out West this summer, with all the great bands we saw.
Analogies will not do Okkervil River justice, so I'll refrain from those, thank you very much. Or rather, I already churned those out while commenting on X's loving post on the subject.
Suffice to say, I was awestruck by the band. Their execution, delivery and unity was tight, in my mind partly because they've been playing hundreds of gigs in the past couple of years, and in part because their backcatalogue is extremely strong; they've got more power in their latest album than most artists produce during their lifetime, which they're getting some due credit for.
Generally speaking I can - at the best of times - somehow manage to convert my feelings into words, but it's hard with Okkervil. I mean, in all ways. Experiencing this band is, to me, like entering a different realm, one of its own, yet similar to that of other great bands and artists, whether it be music, literature, video, etc. For example, I cannot even begin to address how much many of Will's lyrics mean to me. I hate it. I hate being unable to pinpoint my reason for love, but at the same time I'm happy beyond words, so for once, my lack of words is a very good thing, and I guess I'll try to shut up about that now.
So, describing my experience is desperately unfathomable. Hence, fuck my pretensions about writing this post thoroughly.
I went insane to tracks like "Lady Liberty", "For Real" and their cover of ABBA's "Does Your Mother Know". Thumb-ups were thrown by people. Will drank a glass of whisky, had some Brahma and water with that after banging the shit out of his thin g-string (no pun intended) on his half-acoustic guitar for several minutes. We stood silent, we jumped and danced madly. We hugged, kissed and exchanged laughs, glances of love and hatred as some 14-year-olds shouted that they wanted to hear "depressing songs, we want to cry". The crowd was kind of silent, maybe even revering. People dove for drum-sticks ((X was given hers by Travis as he exited the stage for the last time.)). They played sad, bad, glad and mad songs. They were polished Motown, they were old-skool folkies. They were themselves, everybody in the band doing their own thing. Will and Travis shone through the most for me, and I felt like their finger was on the pulse the entire time. At times the band felt like missionaries and we, the audience, was the congregation. But I never felt like they were preaching to the converted; I don't feel like an OR-fanatic. That'd mean I'd take them for granted in some ways, and as they're an ever-changing band I'll just try to keep my heart open about these guys, absorb whatever they'll bring to the table and analyse it there and then instead of just head-nod to whatever they do. The only thing I think they're going to repeat the next album around, is amaze me with new themes and fantastic songs, no matter how.
The band-members I spoke with were gentlemen: Travis was very nice and polite - especially when dancing to The Strokes with his patent smile - and Will was nice to let us exchange a few words and him sign a couple of albums. Patrick was nice.
I'll finish off by saying I've uploaded this photo-set from the gig, and X's got some pics right here and here's a couple of video-snippets from the show courtesy of X, displaying the only known footage of their ABBA-cover: