As his set came to an end and a couple members of The Roadhouse Band scurried offstage for a quick bathroom break, Ryan Davis set down his guitar, turned to the audience, and just smiled. There would be no theatrics between the main set and the encore – no rounds of co-ordinated clapping and chanting from the fans, no gradual return to the stage. Chickie Wah Wah is an intimate venue near New Orleans’ Central Business District, and there isn’t much of a “backstage” to speak of – during the set, audience members needing the restroom simply walk along the side of the stage to a small hallway (usually stacked with guitar cases and other touring ephemera) that leads to the loo.
“Where would we even go?” Davis said. He shrugged, took a sip of the beverage resting next to the drum kit, and waited for his pals to return.
He hadn’t spoken much to the crowd during the set, but to kill time, he said that this was the first time he’d played New Orleans with his current outfit. “About ten years ago, I played here with my ‘other band,’” he said. “I can’t remember the name of the place, but when we got there, the place seemed empty. There were no instructions for the load-in, nobody around. Eventually, this dog wearing a handkerchief popped up from behind the bar.” Davis mimed a dog propping its forepaws on a bar, looking inquisitive. “I thought, ‘I guess this guy’s in charge,’” he said.
Reassembled, the band smoothly began ‘Crass Shadows (at Walden Pawn),’ and the crowd once again fell under Davis’ spell. It was a youngish audience made up of guys in trucker hats clutching Pabsts, the occasional tie-dyed hippie type, and, mostly, kids who looked like they should be home studying for their Econ 101 finals. Chickie is an intimate setting, so the crowd of 100 or so filled the place comfortably. Early in the set, Davis asked everyone to step forward a foot or two so the folks in the back could do the same. It was a generous gesture to a polite and accommodating audience. One thing united them: they were devotees.They swayed with the softer acoustic moments, jammed with the more fiery parts, and seemed to know every turn Davis’ obliquely-structured songs would take. Some mouthed the words of Davis’ complex and often pointillistic lyrics; all were attentive and chill. They were there to listen, not to gab with their friends, to share a moment with their guy and his crack band.
The set began with the languid, nearly eight-minute ‘Free From the Guillotine,’ from “Dancing on the Edge.” It set the tone for an evening whose musical topography would at times lull, at other times swell to rolling waves of two-guitar and pedal steel crests.
“I alone am but a negligible fraction of the holy trinity,” Davis crooned in his smooth baritone, “And I’m only in town for this one night.”
‘The Simple Joy’ followed, as the band warmed up and the crowd settled in, followed by ‘Monte Carlo/No Limit,’ which allowed the band to stretch and highlighted the harmonies between Davis and bassist/flutist Lou Turner, the Texas-born, Nashville-based songwriter whose own solo career is worth attention. Davis is fortunate to have Turner anchor his Roadhouse Band, as she brings a palatable joy to her work, smiling often, and seeming to have as much fun as anyone in the crowd.
The same could be said for all of Davis’ six-piece touring group. Christian “Smokey” DeRoeck was a solid, stabilizing presence on acoustic and electric guitars, a foil for Davis’ more buoyant moments and occasional bootyshaking. Jim Marlowe anchored the beat and Trevor Nikrant’s pedal steel was ethereal and essential. At the rear of the stage, on bongos, synth, and assorted electronics, Dan Davis (no relation) bounced like a gleeful kindergartener, adding authentic enthusiasm to the proceedings.
Davis and co. ripped through nearly every song on the critically-acclaimed “New Threats From the Soul.” along with ‘Learn 2 Re-Luv’ and ‘Flashes of Orange,’ a highlight which found DeRoeck and Turner kneeling at their amps while Davis banged away with escalating rhythm fills. They closed with the one-two punch of the title track from ‘New Threats’ and ‘Junk Drawer Heart.’ Davis ultimately sent the assembled out into the night with the lovely ‘Bluebirds Revisited.’ Much like the setbreak, the show ended without theatrics, but with gentleness, as the attendees dispersed “into the private midnight,” soothed and satisfied.
Setlist:
Free From the Guillotine
The Simple Joy
Monte Carlo/No Limit
Mutilation Springs
Learn 2 Re-Luv
Flashes of Orange
New Threats From the Soul
Junk Drawer Heart
Encore:
Crass Shadows (at Walden Pawn)
Bluebirds Revisited
