Thursday, February 05, 2009

Cracker/Pieta Brown; February 5, 2009; High Noon Saloon

David Lowery and Johnny Hickman have always been the identifiable face of Cracker. They do all the singing and all the sweet guitar licks; I just wasn’t sure how well they could pull off a Cracker show as a duo. “It’s just going to be the tow of them acoustic,” I cautioned my friend Oliver, “I’m not sure how much it will rock.” Turns out that if I were the rhythm section for Cracker I would be a little worried about my job security. “We’re playing tomorrow night in Palatine with the full band,” Lowery said at the end of their very entertaining and surprisingly thorough set. All I could think was “why?”

Despite being advertised as such, it wasn’t completely unamplified. Lowery banged away on an acoustic while Hickman tore it up on electric pretty much non-stop. The last several records were underrepresented, the most glaring omissions being 2002’s Forever with all its songs about monkeys and 03’s terrific country covers record Countrysides. In fact so much of the set list came from their first three records that it might as well have been billed as “Cracker the Early Years.” Not that I’m complaining, hearing songs so evocative of the “alternative rock” years of the 90’s re-imagined by the duo proved that they held up better than most music of that era. They wasted no time getting a few of the “hits” out of the way. “Teen Angst” followed an unfamiliar opener, with “Eurotrash Girl,” originally aggravatingly hidden on Kerosene Hat, not far behind.

Having satisfied the hits quota, they delved deep into their self-titled record. I hadn’t heard the humorous “Dr Bernice” before, but found my self smiling at lines about the fakery of the title character. “Baby don't you drive around with Dr. Bernice. That ain't a real Cadillac. It's a delta 88 spray painted black with fake leather seats from Juarez,” and “she’s not a lady doctor at all, she’s got hands like a man with hair on the back,” make you wonder what the good doctor actually is up to. Other favorites from that record included “St Cajetan,” “Mr. Wrong,” and, very appropriately since it was Oliver’s birthday, “Happy Birthday to Me”

I was hoping Hickman would bust out his infectious “Lonesome Johnny Blues” but instead we got the dreary “Here Comes Another Song About the Rain” (also from their debut). That was just about the only thing tiresome he could be accused of, the rest of the set he was killing on guitar, dueting with Lowery on a decidedly not cheesy song about the kind of friends they are, and flirting with everyone in the front row, flashing his charming smile. Not only was the duo show just as good as a band show, it may have been even better. The sound was stunning and the set list exceptional. In fact I had forgotten all about what was perhaps their biggest hit. They had taken off the guitars and were about to leave the stage a second time, when Lowery leaned into the mic, “Um, we forgot one,” before hitting the first notes of “Low.”

You know, the set was so good I think we all had forgotten about it.













No comments: