Magnolia Electric Co. Live at the Busted Lift

An Incendiary Performance by a Road-Tested Rock Band

May 18, 2009

On March 21st, 2006, Magnolia Electric Co. brought their Uncle-Tupelo-after-a-night-of-drinking-and-listening-to-Neil-Young sound to a small city in northeast Iowa.

For a band like Magnolia Electric Co (the most recent incarnation of Jason Molina's Songs: Ohia project), “eating the road” isn't just some silly platitude that gets thrown around.

The band is an example of life on the road, and great one, at that. Regardless, they still have to play 200+ shows a year (on top of side jobs) to survive. Living in a van, staying with whoever will let them, eating when they have to, showering when they can. It certainly doesn't leave much to be desired.

On the other hand, the band is full of desire: a vulnerable voice, a loud, poofy haired, chain smoking guitarist, a drummer with not just swing, but swagger, a keyboardist with taste (and a sweet mustache), and a bass player who sinks his teeth into the pocket and doesn't let go. Worship at the altar of Bob Seger and Neil Young & Crazy Horse. It's all there, and for every bootleg and studio record the band has, nothing matches this live performance.

It starts with a little introduction, and then goes full swing into "Hammer Down,” a low-key acoustic number from 2005's What Comes After the Blues turned into an full-on Crazy Horse rocker. "When it’s been my ghost on the empty road/I think the stars are just the neon lights/Shining through the dance floor/Shining through the dance floor/Of heaven on a Saturday night." There's life on the road: drunken gazing and wondering from the stage.

"No Moon On the Water" hits one of Molina's many themes: the moon. It works, though, and he's building this archetype of fear and the unknown. "No Moon On the Water" find the band shuffling between an eerie start-stop guitar crunch and a laid back boogie, with Molina's unsure tenor floating above it all.

If listeners were to pick up 2006's Fading Trails, they would be surprised to hear “Talk To Me Devil, Again” in comparison to the version heard at this show. While pleasant, it lacks force. On the studio version he's shamefully asking the devil. Here, he tells him.

The band even manages to cultivate its tender side in a proper live manner. "Don't Fade On Me", the opening cut from Fading Trails, is a track not unlike the title track from 2005's Hard to Love a Man EP: quiet, a great story, and feeble in all the right ways. At this show they kept all of those elements during the verse, but then kicked it up for the chorus and very necessary guitar solos.

Keyboardist Michael Kapinus switches over to trumpet for "Leave the City,” a quintessential bar band tune. From the opening lines of "It broke my heart to leave the city/I mean it broke what wasn’t broken in there already" to the climax of the wanderer's trail (complete with Molina's spoken exclamation during the guitar solo: “Y'all seem to like classic rock and roll”) at the end.

"It’s true as far as a lot of stuff/You could have had a little better luck/You just called and just hung it up/Baby one of us have had enough/It’s true as far as a lot of stuff/You could have had a little better luck/You just called and just hung it up/Baby both of us have had enough."

After a thanks to Des Moines (pronounced Dez Moynz), IA, they launch into the best song that Crazy Horse never wrote: "The Dark Don't Hide It.” A nasty riff alternates between light strumming with driving keys, bass, and drums and wicked Jason Groth soloing. And of course, Molina never stops being cynically sensitive the whole time: “Human hearts and pain should never be separate/They wouldn’t tear themselves apart both trying to fit."

Molina really was in rare form that night. It's odd that a man with such sad songs ("The Black Crow," "Lioness") could be so animated on stage. "Every once in awhile, you wake up in the morning . . . and there is no morning . . . I took some acid tonight," is how he introduces "Just Be Simple,” the only track in their set from 2003's self titled album. The good time between songs makes the sad ones even sadder by comparison (especially when he states in the intro to the next track, "I really did take acid. It's great . . . again").

What Comes After the Blues

"What Comes After the Blues" is another bar band rocker. Fast enough to dance comfortably to, yet laid back enough to just stand there and enjoy. It's an interesting question, and even when it's explored in a borderline dumb manner ("Now Noah must have had a lot of room on the ark/For all of them broken hearts") it still manages to be charming.

He declares that there will be three more songs and then adios. "Montgomery Bound" breezes by in two minutes before coming to it's faux-destruction ending. "Lonesome Valley" (a song "about ****ing", as we find out beforehand) is more of the same, but at this point that's all the crowd wants. They've been rolling for 45 minutes and changing would be silly. The soloing channels-Neil Young, and they even do the fun harmonies on none other than the line "Now let the wolf judge me as I stand/Harmony onward friend."

More jovial silliness ensues between the crowd and the band, before they close it out with "Memphis Moon". The guitar snakes in and out of another song about the moon. Molina gives the crowd the proper ending right before the song, however, with a simple and honest "Goodnight, river."

As if it wasn’t enough, he speaks up over the ringing of the last chords: “See you in the river. At the bottom.”

The copyright of the article Magnolia Electric Co. Live at the Busted Lift in Indie Music is owned by Ryan Werner. Permission to republish Magnolia Electric Co. Live at the Busted Lift in print or online must be granted by the author in writing.