Iron and Wine (Sam Beam)

[October 6, 2008 Eugene, OR McDonald Theatre] Gray Tuesdays, lying in your lover’s arms, with nothing else in the world but you and her. I will admit that this was a show that packed a large emotional punch for me. There was baggage there that surpasses any other artist or song on my iPod, all 58 GB by last count. For 6 months even hearing the soft cords or melodic voice that Sam Beam has would fill me with dread and nausea, yet not at all because of his skill. Eventually though, his songs were so great that I could eventually get past my emotional hang-ups, and move on once again to loving his music. Now instead of dread I feel the love of what once was, and what will be. Alone on stage, it was up to Sam and his lone guitar to serenade the crowd with a mountain man beard and soft beautiful voice. He was surprisingly friendly (not that he would have been mean, just that he often chatted with the crowd as one would with a friend). On his first song he messed up, forgot the cords and skipped lines, only to stop and chuckle, laughing about how one can never be perfect. It was endearing. It showed you what music really was; his art, yet it takes practice and he got warmed up. Going through his set he would talk to us, commenting on how we should be doing school work (Eugene is an university town) and all the ups and down (mostly ups really) of smoking weed, which of course we all do/did. I have never felt as close to an artist than at this show. He would talk about how lonely the road is when you are by yourself, and it was like we were his band mates for the evening. One instance in particular was very memorable. During the middle of his set a string broke. Normally this would be a thing kept in back, and a quick change of guitars would be done, and the crowd would be none the wiser, yet there was no background, only him. With no extra guitar, he tuned his to make the next song work, and asked in back for his lone guitar string in the front of his bag. Playing the song sans a string, he was still able to make it come alive. Afterwards he got the string and strung it onstage, yet never missing a beat, always talking to us, making us feel as important as artists always say we are. Finally he got it perfect and continues on. Later on though, while tuning the guitar for his next song (no spare guitars meant he had to tune for most songs) he heard a twang and feared for the string breaking. He had no guitar and said that with no extra string, well that would be terrible. Yet we all knew what would happen. Any of us would run out to our cars, grab our guitar, and hand it over gladly. At times he would stop and we would yell out songs. “Jezebel” was common (it ended up being his encore, chosen by the masses), and as he said, “There is a set list, yet nothing is ever permanent. I can always change it up.” There was the classic call for “Free bird” and instead of ignoring it as usual, Sam responded. “I might just play it, then won’t you look like a dick” and just chuckles. Playing a large part of Shepherd’s Dog and of course Our Endless Numbered Days, it was hard not to be impressed. One could have even sat down and had it all sink in. Sam has even asked for that at shows in the past, and on that night it would have been fitting. He carries a show with just the basics, guitar and vocals. It is amazing how much it can affect someone. I will admit there may have been a tear or two; I know I was not alone, because it is hard to not be hit on some level by his lyrics.
[Nick Erickson]