Punch Brothers perform at the Ogden Theatre on April 7, 2015. Photos by Kit Chalberg, heyreverb.com
lived up to their name with lightning-fast string playing and sonic acrobatics at in Boulder on Tuesday night. The classically trained, bluegrass-drenched quintet set the stage on fire (figuratively) without breaking a sweat.
When virtuosic mandolin player and front man Chris Thile takes the stage he lights up the auditorium with furious riffs on the mandolin. Paul Kowert lays the foundation for the band’s rhythmic construction on the upright bass, Noam Pikelny (AKA Pickles) plays mean licks on the banjo, Chris Eldridge flies effortlessly up and down the frets of his acoustic guitar, and Witcher masters both the fiddle and the modified drum kit throughout. Together they blaze into songs from their most recent album, “The Phosphorescent Blues,” and itap polyrhythmic bliss until the final chords of the encore.
By playing string instruments exclusively, Punch Brothers give a rich texture to the harmonic structure of bluegrass compositions like “Boll Weevil.” “My Oh My” and “Rye Whiskey” were full of downbeat syncopation as the guitar and mandolin created the signature two-and-four driving percussive hallmark of bluegrass music.
Dynamically, the men of Punch Brothers are unmatched in their genre: they are at once masterful and boyishly playful. They collectively crescendo and decrescendo seamlessly through songs like “Familiarity,” which has three movements much like an orchestral arrangement. They also tackled an arrangement of “Suite bergamasque,” which Claude Debussy originally intended for classical piano, and which the group reimagined with bluegrass instruments.
During their instrumental breaks the playing is conversational. Perhaps thatap due to the fact that the music is completely acoustic, or that the members find a commonality in expression through their string instruments. Strikingly, during their most involved and difficult phrases, they don’t look at their hands. They look at each other. Without a consistent drummer to keep the groove, they are connected by a tacit pulse and move as one. The band’s bluegrass instrumentation is executed with surgical precision while set to a swanky collective heartbeat.
Though the Punch Brother’s songs are full of complex chords and progressions, Thile matches the intricate progressions with accessible vocal melodies and lyrics. Thile’s brassy vocal timbre shines brilliantly through the string-dominated arrangements. The band’s melodic and lyric decisions also make room for more storytelling with instrumental acumen.
During the first song of the encore, “Forgotten, ” Thile, Eldridge and Witcher perfectly blend their heavenly three-part harmonies to be tenderly luminous and effortlessly transcendent. They sing “Hey there, it’s all gonna be fine / You ain’t gonna die alone / You ain’t gonna be forgotten,” and somehow the melody emotes the sentiment behind the lyrics more than the lyrics themselves.
The Punch Brothers’ departure from a somewhat academic approach to their music to focus on storytelling makes them a quintessential example of mastering the rules so you can strategically break them. The result is utterly original and emotionally resonant music.
While there weren’t any actual flames, lavish staging, or pyrotechnics, by the end of the night the Punch Brothers’ strings were undoubtedly smoking.
