Review: Alabama Shakes at the Orange Peel

Photos by Rich Orris.

I recently heard someone describe Florence Welch (of Florence and the Machine) as “singing like her clothes are on fire. In a good way.” That crossed my mind while I was watching Alabama Shakes perform “Hold On” at The Orange Peel. Front woman Brittany Howard sings with something akin to abandon, but abandonment only in the sense that she’s relinquished all else and given herself completely to the song. As if her life depended on it. As if she was pleading her case before the firing squad. As if this was the last song the world would ever hear.

It’s almost scary to watch someone perform that way. You wonder if she’ll ruin her voice, or if she’ll get too caught up in the heartache and hard living of which she sings and ruin herself. You think, she could step back a bit. She’d still be fantastic with half the effort, half the fiery apparel, and no one listening would think anything less of her. Then you think, now that you know Howard can do this, you kind of want to see what will happen if she pushes just a little farther, nudges her voice even closer to that jagged edge.

Alabama Shakes — five young musicians with seemingly old souls — channel the likes of Janis Joplin, Otis Redding, Carla Thomas and “Pigpen” McKernan. While Heath Fogg (guitar), Zac Cockrell (bass), Steve Johnson (drums) and newly-added keys player Ben Tanner are undeniably skilled, because they don’t sing (or move around much), they aren’t any where near as dynamic as Howard. What they do, though, on almost every song, is start out at a super-high level of energy and then build from there. Where, in good rock songs, there’s a coiled tension just waiting to snap, in an Alabama Shakes song its a live wire reeling and snapping, stopping just short of all-out immolation.

There’s a certain tried-and-true methodology at work here. Nothing that Alabama Shakes is doing is reinventing the wheel. They’re taking cues from MoTown and soul, from the great ‘60s acts born of the South when times were harder and the blues was a way of life instead of a fashion statement. The heart-beat thump of kick drum and the faded Levi’s shades of Hammond B3 are accessories to a sound, placing each song within the context of an era as well as an emotion. But, all of that aside, what Alabama Shakes does has this feeling of rightness. You don’t have to work to like them. You don’t have to suss out the groove or the appropriate response. You’re dancing before you realize it. You’re trying to sing along to a song that Howard introduces as “a new one,” but still you feel like you know it because it comes off as so lovingly dog eared and ingrained. It feels like second-nature, this music that recalls the history (for better or worse) of a south not altogether lost to progress and the march of time. And it plumbs the emotional landscape that we all share (for better or worse), from lost loves and bitter regrets to the electric fuzz of boozy nights and the negotiations with god required to get out of bed each morning.

Late in their set, Alabama Shakes played “You Ain’t Alone,” the song they placed in a Zales campaign this holiday season. But seeing Howard sing it from the stage, it took on facets and nuances lost on the polished jewelry-bedecked commercial. And then (nodding to the obvious comparison) the band wove in a chorus of Joplin’s “Cry Baby.”

It was a short show — just about an hour — and then the band returned for a two-song encore during which Howard free-versed her thanks to Asheville for such a good turn out. She seemed genuinely surprised (though Alabama Shakes has started selling out their shows already). Indeed, the venue was near-capacity on a Thursday night. Two days before New Year’s Eve. Not just anyone can do that.

SHARE

Thanks for reading through to the end…

We share your inclination to get the whole story. For the past 25 years, Xpress has been committed to in-depth, balanced reporting about the greater Asheville area. We want everyone to have access to our stories. That’s a big part of why we've never charged for the paper or put up a paywall.

We’re pretty sure that you know journalism faces big challenges these days. Advertising no longer pays the whole cost. Media outlets around the country are asking their readers to chip in. Xpress needs help, too. We hope you’ll consider signing up to be a member of Xpress. For as little as $5 a month — the cost of a craft beer or kombucha — you can help keep local journalism strong. It only takes a moment.

About Alli Marshall
Alli Marshall has lived in Asheville for more than 20 years and loves live music, visual art, fiction and friendly dogs. She is the winner of the 2016 Thomas Wolfe Fiction Prize and the author of the novel "How to Talk to Rockstars," published by Logosophia Books. Follow me @alli_marshall

Before you comment

The comments section is here to provide a platform for civil dialogue on the issues we face together as a local community. Xpress is committed to offering this platform for all voices, but when the tone of the discussion gets nasty or strays off topic, we believe many people choose not to participate. Xpress editors are determined to moderate comments to ensure a constructive interchange is maintained. All comments judged not to be in keeping with the spirit of civil discourse will be removed and repeat violators will be banned. See here for our terms of service. Thank you for being part of this effort to promote respectful discussion.

Leave a Reply

To leave a reply you may Login with your Mountain Xpress account, connect socially or enter your name and e-mail. Your e-mail address will not be published. All fields are required.