Show Review

Alison Krauss, who produced Nickel Creek’s first two albums, has often labeled their art as “Nickel Creek music.” I have rolled my eyes at that term for a while, thinking that such a young band could not have that unique of a sound. I assumed it was just a line to sell some records, or to make Krauss sound intelligent (ok, maybe I was just a little ticked that Krauss had the ability to confuse the heck out of me). For the record, after witnessing the Nickel Creek experience along with another thousand pair of ears, I’ll have to agree with Krauss. It’s just Nickel Creek music—and that is a wonderful way to put it.

Mostly holding true to their bluegrass roots throughout their two hour performance at the Pageant, the trio of Sara Watkins, Sean Watkins, and Chris Thile proved Krauss a genius, effortlessly covering and conquering the likes of Nirvana, Carrie Newcomer, Beck and Gillian Welch, while also cruising through traditional folk and country instrumentals and their growing catalog of original material. And although some of their new material sounded rough and unfinished, their presence—especially that of Thile and his mandolin—made all their time on stage seem worthwhile and undefinable.

After opening the show with an instrumental that ostensibly served as a soft appetizer for the crowd and as a chance for Sara Watkins to flirt with her fiddle, things livened up with a cover of Newcomer’s “I Should’ve Known Better.” Showing off three-part harmony that echoed the spirit of Crosby, Stills and Nash, Thile next took the lead and offered his sweet vocals on “When You Come Back Down,” a gem off their first self-titled album and also a highlight of the night. Passionately seizing the moment, Thile and his crew sang about the low after the high and the need for solid ground after the fall, capturing the essence of live music: setting free the heart of a song. By nailing the tune, Thile and company quickly set a inspiring foundation for the rest of the evening.

Always keeping up the pace, they quickly dived into a country-laden instrumental which segued into the most pompous, yet endearing moment of the night—a finger licking good take on Nirvana’s “Lithium.” Shocking the crowd with this development, Thile sang Cobain’s words as if he had written the song himself in a Nashville bar, while still being able to rock out grunge style. Easing out of the spotlight, Thile next offered Sara Watkins the chance to sing and lead with her fiddle on “Face of Trouble,” which didn’t quite match the magic of its predecessor, but still was enough to display Watkins’ many charismatic talents.

Perhaps the only dull moment of the night came during the next song, a seemingly work-in-progress titled “Rain Through My Window.” The momentum, however, was never lost, as they quickly and confidently picked through “Smoothie Song,” which again featured Sara Watkins, as she toyed with the crowd, switching between Irish and country influences while she danced with her fiddle. Her enthusiasm was often matched by Thile, but never attempted by her brother, Sean Watkins, as he stood still for most of the evening while he plucked his acoustic guitar. And even when he had his chance to shine during the crowd-favorite “This Side,” he seemed to sing the song without any passion or substance.

Clearly not lacking passion was Mark Schatz, who joined the band onstage with his work on stand-up bass. Standing out of the spotlight for the majority of the show, he had his chance to boogie with an extended Southern Appalachian clog dancing performance near the end of an instrumental. Schatz wowed the crowd with his foot-tapping skills and seemed very appreciative of the band’s willingness to let him glow.

Near the end of show, the band also let Schatz in on a larger role for their “unplugged” encore, which featured a few early twentieth century numbers like Guy Lomarbdo’s “Sweethearts on Parade.” As they crowded around a single microphone, each took turns showing their love for the quieter side of stage performance; and for the most part, albeit a few laughs, the audience played along and kept quiet as they listened to the unamplified sounds struggling to fill the room. And yet, even though it was something that was unfamiliar to the listeners in attendance, Nickel Creek had the ability to make it their own. It was still Nickel Creek music through and through.

photo originally appeared on nickelcreek.com