Ray Lamontagne
>> Clyde Auditorium
>> 22nd January 2007
The weather tonight is rather appropriate. The wind around Clyde Auditorium is quiet and cold, and there’s frost underfoot out on the patio. The onstage arrival of soulful miserabilist Ray Lamontagne is not dissimilar. There’s a distinct air of unease as he straps on his guitar and steps up to the microphone. I get the sense that, despite the amount of records he has sold over the last year, he’s still not used to sharing himself with the rest of the world.
It’s only with the soft swell of “Be Here Now” that the audience actually let’s out its breath. “Don’t let your mind get weary and confused, you will be still, don’t try,” rasps Lamontagne gently as washes of pedal steel fill the room. Bent over slightly, it almost seems as if singing causes him some kind of deep rooted psychological pain. He is so weighed down by the music that even encouraging cries from crowd members seem to provoke no reaction. As a non-fan, I find myself becoming increasingly inquisitive as to how Lamontagne’s emotional state will progress throughout the evening.
My inklings are not entirely unfounded, as after the first few songs we’re presented with an entirely different man. During “Hold You In My Arms”, Lamontagne becomes more animated and empowered, his voice resembling a roaring car engine as his band stretches beneath him like a dusty open road. At the end of the song, he finally opens his mouth to speak, and utters an almost indiscernible thank you. This arouses some excitement in the audience, one of whom yells “Say something!”
This request is not granted until a few songs later - when introducing his hit single “Trouble” - he finally addresses his adoring fans and warmly thanks them for coming along. Just like the stage lights shift from cold blue to a warm tan orange, the uneasy atmosphere also shifts and becomes more relaxed. In places, the music is a bit bland and my chair is so damn comfy that I near convince myself I’m watching Saturday night television, but before long Lamontagne whips out another stunning roar and snaps me back to life. Up until now I’m still not sure if I even like the guy, but then some wifey down the front yells “I love you Ray!” He pauses with a coy smile and says, “I love you too.” It’s at this point that he wins me over.
After a couple more gospel-tinged numbers with his full band, Ray returns alone for his encore, in slightly more jovial spirits. Whilst telling a harmonica anecdote, I notice he’s standing a lot taller than he was before, and by the time he strums his last chord, I’m rooting for him as much as the next person.
> Vicki Cole
www.raylamontagne.com
www.myspace.com/raylamontagne
>> 22nd January 2007
The weather tonight is rather appropriate. The wind around Clyde Auditorium is quiet and cold, and there’s frost underfoot out on the patio. The onstage arrival of soulful miserabilist Ray Lamontagne is not dissimilar. There’s a distinct air of unease as he straps on his guitar and steps up to the microphone. I get the sense that, despite the amount of records he has sold over the last year, he’s still not used to sharing himself with the rest of the world.
It’s only with the soft swell of “Be Here Now” that the audience actually let’s out its breath. “Don’t let your mind get weary and confused, you will be still, don’t try,” rasps Lamontagne gently as washes of pedal steel fill the room. Bent over slightly, it almost seems as if singing causes him some kind of deep rooted psychological pain. He is so weighed down by the music that even encouraging cries from crowd members seem to provoke no reaction. As a non-fan, I find myself becoming increasingly inquisitive as to how Lamontagne’s emotional state will progress throughout the evening.
My inklings are not entirely unfounded, as after the first few songs we’re presented with an entirely different man. During “Hold You In My Arms”, Lamontagne becomes more animated and empowered, his voice resembling a roaring car engine as his band stretches beneath him like a dusty open road. At the end of the song, he finally opens his mouth to speak, and utters an almost indiscernible thank you. This arouses some excitement in the audience, one of whom yells “Say something!”
This request is not granted until a few songs later - when introducing his hit single “Trouble” - he finally addresses his adoring fans and warmly thanks them for coming along. Just like the stage lights shift from cold blue to a warm tan orange, the uneasy atmosphere also shifts and becomes more relaxed. In places, the music is a bit bland and my chair is so damn comfy that I near convince myself I’m watching Saturday night television, but before long Lamontagne whips out another stunning roar and snaps me back to life. Up until now I’m still not sure if I even like the guy, but then some wifey down the front yells “I love you Ray!” He pauses with a coy smile and says, “I love you too.” It’s at this point that he wins me over.
After a couple more gospel-tinged numbers with his full band, Ray returns alone for his encore, in slightly more jovial spirits. Whilst telling a harmonica anecdote, I notice he’s standing a lot taller than he was before, and by the time he strums his last chord, I’m rooting for him as much as the next person.
> Vicki Cole
www.raylamontagne.com
www.myspace.com/raylamontagne
