There is a movie that came out in 1996 called Beautiful Girls. The title and trailer led many to believe it was just another chick flick, but the Scott Rosenberg/Ted Demme film was a pretty accurate study of small town America. The plot follows the lives of friends/enemies during the weekend of their high school reunion. Like The Breakfast Club, but ten years later, all the stereotypical players are present. There’s the good-looking, washed-up jock who can’t keep his relationship together because he still pines for (and screws) his married ex-girlfriend. There’s the musician, tortured by his demons, who falls in love with the innocence and honesty of the adolescent girl next door. There’s the superficial idiot who lives alone, with his dog and posters of models on the walls, because he’s too blinded by physical beauty to meet a real girl. Then there’s the married guy with kids (“a child, trying to do the work of a man“), and just like the others, he’s doesn’t quite know how he got there. Each character has his/her own purpose in life, they just haven’t quite figured it out yet. Each character has a place where they fit, they just haven’t quite got there yet. Rosie O’Donnell’s character explains it best when she catches the guys ogling unreal, airbrushed women in a Playboy Magazine…
“Let me explain something to you, ok? Girls with big tits have big asses. Girls with little tits have little asses. That’s the way it goes. God doesn’t fuck around; he’s a fair guy. He gave the fatties big, beautiful tits and the skinnies little tiny niddlers. It’s not my rule. If you don’t like it, call him.”
I don’t believe in God, at least not the Southern Baptist God who held a heavy grip over John Moreland’s formative years. Even if I did, I wouldn’t exactly call him fair. But I do believe that everyone has one true gift. And I’m suspicious of anyone who claims to have more than one. I believe in a certain balance. I believe in certain rules. I believe that people like Brad Paisley, Jason Aldean and Miranda Lambert have a gift for looking good in designer jeans and singing other people’s songs from a big stage, surrounded by lights. They are gifted pop stars in cowboy hats. I have no problem with that. I just hate when it’s confused with country music. Real country music is made by singer-songwriters who hone their craft by living hard. They scribble lyrics on dirty bar tabs and crumbled up napkins. They grab the beauty out of the stale air in motel rooms and channel it through their beat up guitars. They know what it feels like to drive a van down the highways of the United States of America, towards that never ending horizon. John Moreland is real country.
Colorado might be a craft beer mecca, but that doesn’t stop the flow of PBR in places like 3 Kings. It also doesn’t stop people from buying tallboy PBRs for their favorite musicians. John Moreland had almost as many cans lined up in front of him as Kierston White had people lined up in front of the stage as she warmed things up with tales of alcohol, useless love and failed New Year’s Eves. In fact, by the time it was his turn on that stage, Moreland had such a surplus of the Milwaukee brew that he handed us one of the fresh ones to enjoy throughout his set. That’s the kind of guy he is. Not only does he book his own shows and drive himself across the country to share his incredible songs with those willing to listen, he also shares his beer. After already establishing himself as one of my favorite songwriters with last year’s In The Throes, the 29-year-old man from Tulsa, Oklahoma solidified himself among my favorite human beings within minutes of meeting him. Pure heart and brutal honesty are not things that can only be found in his songs, they are also written across his face.
When he took the stage and told the sound guy to turn it up as far as it could go, “blast my face off with everything you’ve got“, it was obvious that he wasn’t going to need a band or any stage props to get his point across. His formidable presence, guitar and voice were all that he needed to keep the small, but captive audience in awe for his entire set — a set that included almost every song from In The Throes, along with a few new songs from his upcoming album. It was all about the music, but moments of levity allowed us to catch our breath while he joked about Ben Nichols being more beautiful than him, Denver being nice because you can look at the mountains without being in them (“because that would make me claustrophobic“), and how Virgil Dickerson is to blame for people requesting “old as fuck” songs. It was literally one of the best performances of the year and it’s only cost $7, including the complimentary PBR.
The show at Illegal Pete’s was a slightly different experience. First of all, it was free. Second, it was in a burrito joint in Boulder instead of a dive bar on Broadway. But the biggest difference was that Moreland and White shared a set. Both of the artists were propped up on small stools by the window with Pearl Street as their backdrop. They took turns singing, adding backup vocals and guitar to each other’s songs. Kierston’s set at 3 Kings made me take notice, but the up-close-and-personal format of last night’s show made me a believer. She was a force to be reckoned with as she took her voice to new heights, drowning out the casuals at the bar. Her fierce sense of humor and abrupt honesty went over well with the college crowd. At one point she stared down a guy in the front row while singing “you are always on my mind“, making him feel uncomfortable while the rest of us laughed our asses off. When someone requested Tom Petty songs, she demanded shots. “If I had a good whiskey shot, I could play the fuck outta Tom Petty songs…this ain’t my first Tom Petty rodeo.”
It didn’t take long before someone served up the shots and we were treated to an incredible cover of “The Waiting”. Moreland confessed that he didn’t know more than a minute and a half of a Tom Petty song, but then he busted into “The Apartment Song” like he’d been playing it his whole life. The rest of the set was heavy on In The Throes and Don’t Write Love Songs. Moreland and White played off each other like a married couple, always feeding off each other’s songs and banter. At one point White admitted that the elevation and dry air were getting to her, to which Moreland told her she needed to get in better shape. This back and forth made the performance truly unique. It was like a living room show among friends. Things wrapped up with “Nobody Gives a Damn About Songs Anymore” before Moreland thanked everyone for being there. “I didn’t think Boulder would be this cool. Really. Sorry.” It was another one of those honest moments that could have come across as condescending, but it didn’t come across that way at all. He was truly grateful that Boulder was cooler than he thought it would be. Period. He walked up to me after the set and said “it’s really good to see you again“, once again proving what a great guy he really is.
Country music comes from glorious pain and suffering. There are only a handful of people who have the fortitude to be true country artists. There are even fewer who have the gift. In that sense, John Moreland is one of the elite. He is one of the true artists who should be celebrated when people are giving out awards for country music, but that’s not the way it works. Those with the gift of looking good on television will always reap the rewards of those with the gift of writing a song. But that’s ok for now. Moreland sums it up perfectly at the end of “Blacklist”…
“Well the older I get, truth gets harder to find
And famous false prophets get by off of robbing good men blind
Maybe I don’t have it in me, maybe it doesn’t have me in it
And if I don’t fly, that’s fine, just let me find the place where I fit”
I doubt we’ll ever see Moreland accepting some “little gold-plated paper weight“, but hopefully word-of-mouth will drive more people to his shows. Hopefully his songs on “Sons of Anarchy” will help pay the bills for a little bit. Hopefully he’s happy…but not too happy. Good songs don’t come from happy people. John Moreland’s purpose is songs. He has the songs in him and the songs have him in them. John Moreland has found that place where he fits…on a bench, with a guitar, surrounded by people who still give a damn about songs. I’m just glad that place happened to be in Colorado this weekend.
New Song (Tulsa County?)
Blacklist
Your Spell
You Don’t Care Enough for Me to Cry
I Need You to Tell Me Who I Am
Break My Heart Sweetly (with Kierston White)
Oh Julia
Cherokee
Avalon
God’s Medicine
Sweat & Cigarettes
Nobody Gives a Damn About Songs Anymore (with Kierston White)
3:59am
Gospel
John Moreland & Kierston White: Illegal Pete’s Setlist:
Love Songs (White)
Blacklist (Moreland)
Unknown (White)
Your Spell (Moreland)
Big Star (White)
You Don’t Care Enough for Me to Cry (Moreland)
Alcohol (White)
I Need You to Tell Me Who I Am (Moreland)
Ride On (White)
Break My Heart Sweetly (Moreland)
Warren (White)
Oh Julia (Moreland)
Happy Noon Beers (White)
3:59am (Moreland)
The Waiting (Tom Petty) (White)
The Apartment Song (Tom Petty) (Moreland)
Soft Shoulders (White)
Nobody Gives a Damn About Songs Anymore (Moreland)