M Ward/The Watson Twins; April 24, 2009; Pabst Theater

Apparently M Ward wanted us to believe he had played all night. The only decoration on the Pabst Theater stage was a projection of a window in the upper right hand corner of the curtain backdrop. At first just white light shone through the dark pane. As the show went on, the light became dimmer, with fireflies flittering around. Eventually it went to almost black and shadowy bats could be seen flying past, before the sky lightened up again, coinciding with the first of several encores.

The encore has become an overused cliché; bands purposely leave some of their best songs unplayed so that they have something killer for when they come back. The problem is that shouldn’t be a guarantee. The audience should have to beg. This felt like a true encore, Ward and his stellar band didn’t return until we demanded it, then they proceeded to play one song and leave again, only to return when again, and again. In fact, there were four separate encores, a development almost as annoying as the presumed one. The fact that the very last of those was his cover from the terrific Daniel Johnston tribute record The Late Great Daniel Johnston tempered my aggravation, as did the even more appropriate show closer “Magic Trick” (he switched “she disappears” to “I disappear”) which preceded it.

But like the Great Lake Swimmers the night before, it seems like I am just looking for something to complain about, because the show itself was pretty incredible. He started the night with “Chinese Translation” easily the highlight of career highpoint 2008’s Post War. The questions he poses to a wise old man (like “What do you do with the pieces of a broken heart?”) couldn’t be simpler, or more unanswerable. He ended it with ridiculously catchy “Big Boat,” a Tom Waits-ian tale of a man who is prone to exaggeration. In between was a well-chosen set list from his four record career, all of them winners, leaning a little more on the new Hold Time. None of the records show dramatic leaps forward or extreme stylistic shifts, they all just sound like M Ward, and that’s all I want.

It’s hard to believe I didn’t like him at first. The first time I saw him was an unremarkable opening set for Bright Eyes, where I (inexplicably) thought he sounded like Adam Sandler. The second was a miserable, oversold show at Montmartre (any show there is miserable, crowded ones are almost unbearable) where he played solo and expressionless, baseball hat pulled over his eyes. It took hearing “Big Boat” on a mix tape to bring me back to his music, and it’s all been good since then.

He didn’t really have much more to say tonight than he did long ago at Montmartre. Perhaps the most he said was after he took away a camera from a fan in the first row, claiming that we were there to listen to music without any other distractions. It was a surprising move, but justifiable- there were signs posted in obvious spots at the entrances stating no photography. The staff of the Pabst had been polite enough not to search the patrons on the way in, so I would have expected the audience to be polite enough to follow the artist’s wishes. I love taking photos, so it was a strange feeling to just watch the show. Not bad, just strange, and perhaps I did enjoy the music more without worrying about getting the perfect picture.

I could have used the distraction during the opener. I’ve mentioned before that the only thing worse than one girl singers is two; and the only thing worse than that is twins. The Watson Twins weren’t quite as bad as the duo I said that about, but I did find them tediously boring. The only redeeming things were a surprising cover of the Cure’s “Just Like Heaven” and their adorable keyboard player. In the end it doesn’t really matter, they weren’t the band I came to see.