It is a rare crowd that will shush themselves when a performer takes the stage, but Sharon Van Etten’s faithful did at the Red Palace last night, supporting the singer-songwriter through the final night of an eight-week tour.
The wear-and-tear of those eight weeks showed, as Van Etten fluctuated through highs and lows, leading her band members along for the ride. But she proved that, even after two long months on the road, her high points are still far higher than those of most other musicians.
Best known for her honest lyrics about heartbreak, Van Etten revealed an offbeat sense of humor onstage, joking with her bandmates, singing “Happy Birthday” to an audience member, and laughing at herself when, during the encore, she forgot one of her songs halfway through it. “You had the something, I don’t remember — sorry!” But her good nature invited the sold-out crowd to laugh with her — and to demand more.
Her songs were as varied and interesting as she turned out to be. “Tornado” began with Van Etten solely strumming her red guitar, then invited crashing drums into the fray. “Peace Signs” was all punch, throwing itself around the room as Van Etten tilted her head to the rafters to coax high notes from her throat. “Tell Me” was a slow, methodical build of drums, bass and vocals together, climbing up then down to incredible effect.
Van Etten offered a new song, “All I Can,” to the crowd, explaining that its words were about the mistakes she’s made. It was a slower, more thoughtful track, and her face almost shifted into sadness as she played.
This thoughtfulness also invaded the encore, which saw Van Etten come to the stage alone. “Give Out” was dark and ferocious, an explanation of why Van Etten moved to New York. Her final song, “Consolation Prize,” was a request, and it was a good one. It was gentle, careful and pained, just like its title. Its performance could have been mixed with the feeling of ending eight weeks on the road. But really, if a performer can pour such emotion into her act, the source hardly matters.
Opener Lady Lamb the Beekeeper, also known as Aly Spaltro, offered a different approach, bringing just a guitar and her husky, bluesy voice to the stage. Though quiet in her addresses to the crowd, she roared on tracks like “Hair to the Ferris Wheel” and “Crane Your Neck.” The latter, her final track, was a true standout, full of held high notes and extended riffs, meant to wake a room full of disinterested people. But last night, Spaltro had silence — and she used it to her advantage.
