"I wan't to hear you yodel!" - Brandi Carlile

Brandi Carlile
Mishawaka Amphitheatre, Bellvue, CO - September 12, 2009

Setlist:
Oh Dear
Looking Out
What Can I Say
Late Morning Lullaby
My Song
I Will
Happy
Touching the Ground
Dreams
Before it Breaks
Have You Ever
Turpentine
The Story
Let it Be

Jackson
Folsom Prison Blues
Stand By Your Man
Same Old You
Pride and Joy

Opening Act: The Noises 10

Mishawaka… Ah, our beloved little run-down shack and hippie mecca on the banks of northern Colorado’s Poudre river. Scenic, yes. Controversial, yes. Charming on a cool autumn night, absolutely. Last year I wrote that Red Rocks is surely the most stunning venue for live music anywhere. I must say that the Mish is one of the few places that compares equally.

Although Mishawaka is a solid 25 miles northwest of Fort Collins, we like to claim it as our own. It’s nestled in a very small meadow up the Poudre canyon with its rustic stage hemmed in by a wooden fence on one side and the Cache la Poudre river on the other while the canyon walls soar overhead. Behind the audience rests the near-century-old log-cabin-style dance hall. Although I’ve driven past the Mish countless times, I’d caught only one show here before (an afternoon with Jay Farrar). A week ago I was stoked to learn that Brandi Carlile would make a September visit here.

For you who don’t know of Brandi Carlile, she’s is unequivocally the most talented singer I’ve heard this last decade. A few years ago Paula and I attended an E-town taping at Fort Collins’ Lincoln Center featuring her and Marc Cohn. With no disrespect to Marc Cohn, who was very, very good, Brandi Carlile simply stole the show with her incredibly strong and passionate voice. During one moment she was interviewed about her yodel, to which her demonstration brought the house down. Months later I found myself stuck in the back of a long snowcat ride where the conversation migrated to yodeling, and one of the scientists riding beside me remarked, “You know who has one hell of a yodel is Brandi Carlile.” He had been in the Lincoln Center that night as well. Ever since, Paula and I have thoroughly enjoyed our collection of her albums.

Now the Mish, that’s another story. Its legacy is blemished with run-ins with the U.S. Forest Service (who I must speak kindly of, considering they are my employer) along with a mentally unstable owner who have battled against each other over this property for many years. Among many problems is the total lack of on-site parking. As I mentioned, the venue fills a tiny meadow fifteen miles up a narrow mountain canyon. One side of the road is a steep rock slope. On the other is a rushing river. In the past, concert goers have parked on the highway in places so narrow that I still can’t believe their cars didn’t slide into the Poudre.

So why do I tell you this. Because our night starts when Paula and I, along with Jen (remember her and her failed attempt to join us for the My Morning Jacket concert a year ago) and her mother Brenda meet up at a parking lot at the mouth of the canyon and hop on a shuttle bus to take us up to Mishawaka (this is the latest solution to keep the Mish out of trouble). Before departing, the driver addresses us and mentions he works for a “party bus” service out of Boulder, and then he cranks up the stereo, and drives our standard yellow school bus up the river. Now, in the past two weeks there have been two incidents in the canyon when an asphalt tanker went overboard and crashed into the Pouder river. It’s been plastered on the front page of the newspaper almost every day. So, you can imagine our concern when on this cold, rainy night we see the party-bus driver jamming out to “Sultans of Swing” as our bus swings left, and right, and left, and right, and left, and right, and left, and right up the canyon. Even more scary is seeing the temporary guard rail illuminated in our headlights denoting where one of the tankers crashed last week. …Alas, we make it to the front door of Mishawaka safely.

This is a very cold September evening in the mountains. I figure it’s in the 40’s, maybe, mixed with intermittent rain and snow flurries. So, this is my first concert I’ve ever attended wearing my winter coat, gloves, and hat (my brown University of Wyoming one, of course). Paula proves to be the wisest of us when she gets a coffee at the bar. After listening to the opening act (who are quite good and remind me of Ryan Adams) from Mishawaka’s patio we head down near the stage to join the mass of people for their warmth.

The concert is simply outstanding. Brandi Carlile takes the stage with her band (the two twins, Phil and Tim Hanseroth, her cellist Josh Neumann, and new drummer Allison Miller) who gather around the center stage microphone and perform the a cappella “Oh Dear”. The group is bundled in coats, hats, and scarves, and their breath condenses as they sing in a brilliant harmony. When this tour began I doubt they expected anything like this. “We’re freezing up here!” They heat up their performance with a wonderful “What Can I Say” (which, consequently, I share a song with that same title). The sound at the Mish is great. And there aren’t enough adjectives to describe her voice. After several electrified songs, the band sets down for an acoustic set featuring songs from her soon to be released “Give up the Ghost” album. At this point Jen points out that it’s starting to snow. It’s certainly a once in a lifetime experience: the light rain and snow, the smell of smoke drifting overhead from Mishawaka’s fireplace, the ponderosa pine all around, the Poudre river drifiting by, and Brandi and company delivering song after song from the stage. “This has to be the most unique place we’ve played.”

She dedicates “Have You Ever” to a night like this, and thus begins a string of great songs. The audience moves to “Have you ever wandered through the woods…” after which Jen mentions to me she wants to hear “Turpentine”, and surprisingly, they continue right into that. Now, Paula and I are humored by the obligatory sing-a-long in “Turpentine”, but fortunately this one goes over a better than it did at E-town (note, the sing-a-long was edited out from the FM broadcast!). “The Story” is strong. This song in particular is much better in concert. At E-town she told the story that this was Phil’s song from his old metal band, and she eventually got up the nerve to ask him if she could sing it. Since then it’s become a popular radio staple in Colorado. Finally the set ends with a reasonable version of “Let it Be”, with both twins taking a verse (whose voices strangely sound different, considering they’re identical twins).

And then onto the encores, which are undoubtedly the highlight of the night. I bet the band went inside their backstage shack, and after freezing their butts off for over an hour, they decided it was time to crank it up a notch. And man, do they ever! A condensed version of “Jackson” signals the start of a Johnny Cash-country music bonanza. And what can I say about the most raucous, lively, and wonderful version of the “Folsom Prison Blues” that I’ve heard? It’s quite long, with Tim picking some great guitar, and Brandi singing the hell out of that song. Afterward Brandi takes the stage by herself to pay homage to her favorite old country music. Among storytelling and snippets of songs like “D-I-V-O-R-C-E” and “I Don’t Wanna Play House” she pulls off a wonderful and complete version of “Stand By Your Man”. Then she tells the story of her self-penned ultimate cliché country song “Same Old You”, which is also a highlight. And finally, the band joins her for a dramatic “Pride and Joy”. In all, whatever the concert lacked for time, it more than made up for with a fantastic performance.

After that, we experience a final party-bus trip down the Poudre canyon with another hippie-bus-driver. Although many passengers yelp “Whoa” (left turn), “Whoa” (right turn), “Slow down” (left turn), “Whoa” (right turn), we get out of the canyon safely and head for home.

A great (but cold) evening!

And, for your enjoyment, here are some YouTube videos of the concert ...
Oh Dear
I Will
Touching the Ground
Dreams