Maybe I just have a weakness for Titian songstresses: Florence Welch, Tori Amos, Bonnie Raitt, Bette Midler, but I thought Neko Case was the cat’s pajamas when she blew through town the other night. Even though she felt shitty complaining of a cold, she filled up the whole room with her velvety bourbon-flavored sound. Neko’s total transparency makes for such an appealing live experience. Without any trepidation she launches courageously into acapella. The sound is as clear, piercing, warm and authentic as possible. Nothing blocks the transmission of energy between Neko and her audience. When she speaks to her devoted fans, it’s like she’s sitting at the next bar stool. She banters with her band with what seems like sincere and jovial camaraderie. The dynamic feels intimate, as if you are backstage after the show. Maybe that explains why people shouted requests from all over the theater? I have never heard so much aggressive requesting at any show I have ever attended ever. It’s not a piano bar people. (And enough with the Freebird. Tiredest joke ever.)Lately, I’ve been really fed up with the rude-ass behavior of my fellow attendees (ehhhhem MGMT douches), but at Neko’s show my boldly printed vintage jumpsuit was enthusiastically appreciated by at least three separate sets of fawning complimenters, (not even including the cute pedicab driver on the street afterwards). This is not intended as a humble-brag, I’m just highlighting that in Neko’s tribe the women support wild jumpsuit wearing. Neko Case is on tour now. Please go see her. She is sublime. Afterwards you’ll wish she was your best friend.
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