CP review of Old Crow Medicine Show
“I’ve got nothing left in the states for me, I wanna’ see the world, ya see,
I know that Uncle Sam needs me
To fight for an idea I know nothing about…”
-“Big Time in The Jungle,” Old Crow Medicine Show
This song was written about the Vietnam war, but the voices spending all of themselves in one place at the sold-out Boulder Theater on Thursday night seemed to have another foreign front on their minds.
Arriving at the show, one could barely see the theater doors for the line that stretched nearly half a mile from the ticket-takers. Reminiscent of a Phish line, or before that, a Grateful Dead line, there were dreaded people everywhere with fingers stretched in ones and twos into the cool November sky, beseeching fellow fans for that needed ticket.
Finally every one was in, and the lights dimmed. The band took the stage to wild applause, which fell silent and “Fall on Your Knees,” an old standard to the school of American folk, spread its lonesome chords across the house – which was packed to capacity with Boulder youth.
“You’ll never get to heaven when you die, little girl,” was the refrain, and all joined in, memorized by the tale of a woman who could not help but do wrong by her man. The set proceeded, between screams, to include many new tunes.
“I’ll be alright, as long as I can make it through the night;
I’ll be alright, so long as I can get high…”
“This is a new one for ya, we wrote back home.” It was the only explanation offered before spilling the lyrics above. The song was sung with the phrasing and the mellow passion of early Dylan, and the breathy rasp and the solemn looks toward the ceiling were thrown in for good measure. But it was not simply homage; it felt like an earnest passing of the torch.
And this was with good reason. The Old Crow Medicine Show does not mess around. They play exceedingly well. Their original tunes sound even to a trained ear to be age-old traditionals, and the energy they bring to old standards surely has left a few dozen song-writers of old laughing in their graves.
“Come, my friend, let’s put this thing together,
And walk the path these worn out feet have trod,
‘Cause if you wanted, we could go on forever,
Give up your jaded ways; spell your name to God.”
So goes a verse sung in the second set from Old Crow’s first album, “O.C.M.S.” The tune is called “We’re All in This Thing Together.” It depicts the plight of folks everywhere – the narrow path between good and evil that leads from the beginning to the end.
“All we are is a picture in a mirror,
Fancy shoes to grace our feet,
All there is, is a slow road to freedom,
Heaven above, and the devil beneath.”
So ends the number. This was not the first song in the set. It is hard to determine what the first song in the set was.
Rosin from the fiddle-bow spread across the stage as though it was cigarette smoke, and the band continued to do what it does best – blow minds.
There was a lightening-fast rendition of “Johnny Get Your Gun,” sung in rounds and double time. The energy felt impossible.
“Well don’t you never let no woman rule your mind…
Well she’ll leave you troubled, worried all the time…”
This is “Minglewood Blues,” and this had the entire house stomping as though there was a floor fire, desperately in need of assistance from local professionals. Underfoot, the floor felt very much like a trampoline.
The band, though from various points North and West, seem to like to affect a Southern accent during their stage banter, which flies with the speed and articulation of the auctioneer. It was with such an accent that the man with the fiddle announced the final tune of the evening.
“We got just one more number for you, ladies and gentleman, little song about.well, you got some dirty habits here in Boulder.”
The crowd roared, knowing what was coming, and it came – an old favorite amongst Old Crow fans, and the opener to their first album, a song called “Tell it to Me.”
The band left the stage, and again the floor was in danger of being annihilated underfoot. Within forty five seconds, the band was back, playing three songs, among them “My Good Girl Ain’t so Good to Me,” a haunting lament from their most recent album, “Big Iron World.” When they were done, they left again, and when the relentless stomping refused to cease, they took the stage for one final tune.
And then it was over. The band thanked the fans and the fans thanked the band, then all went home, with smiles on their faces, to light their own fires while contemplating strings.
Contact Campus Press Staff Writer Andrew Frankel at andrew.frankel@thecampuspress.com
