Ted Thacker helped warm up the Meadowlark with a quartet of local singer-songwriters on Friday. Photos by .
Last Friday’s lineup of creative crooning at the promised to be a relaxing yet uplifting display of some of Denver’s most talented singer-songwriters, and for the most part, the promise was kept. In fact, the only part that was missing was the relaxing. After all, as comfortable and laidback an atmosphere as the Meadowlark is for these types of solo and/or acoustic shows, this level of songsmithing, in combination with some heartfelt performing, made it difficult to keep emotions in check.
The night started promptly at 9 p.m. with Andy Falconetti, formerly one third of Denver’s longtime indie trio . Falconetti led the packed bar space on a brusque, melodic jaunt through some solo versions of some of the Porticos library, including “Vichy Sun,” “Throwing Bees” and “Olivetti,” as well as a few others.
The sharp, crisp style that helped define his former band’s sound remains its load-bearing quality, and itap only magnified by Falconetti’s easy-to-approach and constantly happy personality. Furing “Jean is Dead” he reminded us all that “Now I’m all alone…” and the sympathy became palpable until his characteristicly huge smile reappeared in full force after the song, vanquishing the overwhelming urge to console the song’s ostensible character.
Next up was Ben Bergstrand from , joined by fellow bandmember Tyler Campo. Bergstrand belted out an acoustic set of sweet, poppy ballads while Campo backed him up vocally and with a Telecaster that he used masterfully to substitute for bass half the time. Bergstrand cuts a vocal and musical figure that at times implies a younger version of Style Council-era Paul Weller, with the frantic vocal approach of Conor Oberst.
At one point the duo did a number that Bergstrand wrote for his daughter showcasing all the hope a young father can muster, crooning “…maybe she’ll change the world…” before launching into a few more urgent-sounding, punkier acoustic tunes. In an example of the smooth, comfortable atmosphere the Meadowlark has established, one of the duo’s final songs was fractured in the ending, which resulted only in some good-natured laughter from both the performers and the audience.
Jason Cain from took the spotlight next, playing a slower, more introspective set of ballads. Cain sat amongst the bar crowd playing the guitar, his foot actively stomping in rhythm on a tambourine on the floor. The set reflected a more passionate, longing and often unrequited feeling than the previous two, but was embraced nonetheless by the (by that time) thinning crowd.
The apex of Cain’s set was a rousing version of Astrophagus’s “Feast Time,” during which Cain played both his guitar and a snare with a heavy gauge brush, alternating hits on both with his right hand as he manipulated chord changes with his left. His performance showed just the type of committed passion for which Cain and his band are building a reputation — seemingly inching closer to the edge of neurosis each time they play.
, from Denver’s sadly defunct took over next, ushering in a distorted, rough sound that set the tone for the rest of the evening. McTurnan’s solo performance featured some refreshingly sloppy bar chording and low, underpronounced vocals that recalled bands like Black Rebel Motorcycle Club and Jesus and Mary Chain with the melodic style of Blur or the Verve. The highlight was a brilliant cover of “Little Red Riding Hood” by Sam the Sham and the Pharoahs, during which the entire bar was howling along.
The highlight performance of the night was presented by , guitarist for legendary Denver punk band Baldo Rex, currently in the band Veronica. Thacker’s short but sweet set was welcomed warmly by those who lasted, and proved that his talents are many — and widely varied. At times he thrashes his guitar, looking much like the animal that helped form the hilarious dissonance and exhaustive assault of Baldo Rex in the old days, and then he would switch gears and play a perfect, beautiful ballad.
When he played his song “I Cried Like A Silly Boy,” recently made more popular as a cover by Denver’s DeVotchKa on their “Curse Your Little Heart E.P.,” I’d be willing to bet that the character in the song was not the only one in the place feeling a bit misty-eyed. Sometimes looking like Buddy Holly, with his signature safety-styled glasses and now short-cropped hair, Thacker left the crowd more jubilant and excited than when they arrived, and it was well worth the wait.
Billy Thieme is a Denver-based writer, an old-school punk and a huge follower of Denver’s vibrant local music scene. Follow Billy’s giglist at
Heather Browne is the Colorado Springs-based editor of the music blog and a regular contributor to Reverb.
