Expectations were not a good thing to have going into Cass McCombs’ set, and tour kickoff, at the Troubadour in West Hollywood on Wednesday night. Honestly, I had a few. I expected a rather somber affair, as McCombs’ recent album, WIT’S End, is full of quiet, reflective numbers. I also expected the setlist to be loaded with cuts from this album, as it is only a few weeks old and the group is probably eager to begin playing the new tunes. And, lastly, I expected McCombs to be at war with the audience, as the Troubadour tends to attract talkers and McCombs’ quiet music is ripe for annoying drunks blabbing about the Lakers while a singer pours out his soul on stage.
Had McCombs played the show predictably, I imagine it would not have won over new fans, but would please the already inundated, and ultimately passed by with little event. But, all of these expectations say more about me than they do about McCombs, as he has never been a predictable musician, and in fact, is usually a challenging one. WIT’S END is notably bleak, and at times difficult, but for better or worse McCombs is always stretching as a songwriter and musician. So, by providing a set of primarily old jams, the L.A.-based singer surprised as a crowd-pleaser, as an entertainer, as someone who can hold the room captive for 80 minutes by simply playing songs and being smart about his pacing. Yes, McCombs is a professional. How did I expect less?
Part of the joy from watching Cass McCombs’ set came in how he broke down expectations. Arriving to the stage with his four-person backing band, who appear to be a finally-solid foundation for McCombs’ traditionally revolving-door of supporters, McCombs sat at a keyboard and made his way through a few of the night’s sleepiest tracks. The whole night could have fit this mood had McCombs desired, and the audience would have probably remained silent and respectful. But, it would be hard to imagine anyone but a Cass McCombs diehard gaining much pleasure from a night full of tunes you could barely tap your foot to.
Then, something changed. After “Lonely Doll,” which would be the last song from WIT’S END to make the set, the band, and particularly McCombs and bassist Rob Barbato (also of Darker My Love), started to communicate more and began weighing what to play and in what order. McCombs announced that the band was going to “keep it loose,” and Barbato added that it “was the first night,” affirming that the band had also discovered that their expectations, particularly of the crowd and the vibe of the evening, might have to be abandoned.
This led to a parade through old tunes (A was heavily represented with four songs and each album at least had a couple songs featured) that was nothing short of exhilarating, hitting fond memory points from many in the crowd who yipped and howled at the beginning of each song as it revealed itself. Yeah, in a small club, McCombs played, basically, a greatest hits set of mid-tempo head-bobbers. A couple girls even danced at the evening’s more rocking points.
“When The Bible Was Wrote,” an unplanned mid-set addition, was a clear standout, seeing McCombs gritting his teeth and holding his eyes firmly shut at each verse’s peak. The bridges were more jammed out than on record, showcasing just what the band can do when they are turned loose. “City Of Brotherly Love,” by contrast, was given more room to breathe and felt more laid back than any of the recorded versions. This worked perfectly in the confines of the set, which felt like the band was playing off each other, rather than just sticking to what was rehearsed.
For the conclusion of the set, McCombs introduced a new song as “from the next record,” offering the clue that maybe McCombs has more finished than what we recently were given on WIT’S END. Then, McCombs finished with two of is oldest recorded songs, “Aids In Africa” and the sublime “Bobby, King Of Boys Town,” both bubbling with emotional intensity, and giving the long-time fans a couple of treats from nearly a decade ago. It was impossible to ignore the happy faces on the stage, as well as in the crowd, as McCombs exited as clearly an artist who gets it — that performing isn’t always about pleasing yourself, and that playing to the audience might be more rewarding for him, as well.
Setlist:
County Line
Petrified Forest
Meet Me Here At Dawn
Buried Alive
Lonely Doll
Pregnant Pause
Prima Donna
Equinox
When The Bible Was Wrote
Don’t Vote
City Of Brotherly Love
New Jam
Aids In Africa
Bobby, King Of Boys Town
