On Saturday night, I got the chance to see a band called Dawes open up for Brett Dennen at the Orpheum Theater.  Walking in downtown L.A. to the brightly-lit theater, I realized there really was a world beyond the seemingly impenetrable haze of the city’s skyline, and I found myself excited to have discovered this—like I had entered some sort of secret society.  Furthermore, if there really were a secret society for those who dwell downtown, the Orpheum would be a smashing place to hold a meeting (or a potluck, if it’s that kind of club).  This was one classy establishment: ornate chandeliers, molded ceilings, a warm interior that made plush carpeting seem to grow beneath your feet; there was a lounge downstairs—perfect for discussing politics or art over a pipe; a couple requisite dark bars—but dark in a mysterious, classy way, rather than a sleazy way.  Plus, the building oozed with historical significance and I was excited to absorb it. Overall, let’s just say I was quite impressed.

The grand and oh so elegant Orpheum Theater.

I found my way to my balcony seat, cursed myself that I had forgotten my monocle (oh, blast!), and melted into my chair as Dawes took the stage. Sure, I had countless silhouettes crossing my path and obstructing my vision throughout the entire performance, but I was actually quite happy to be seated (a rarity it seems these days), and I let my visual perception fall to the wayside while the auditorium’s rich acoustics consumed me. Also, something worth sharing is that from a distance it was difficult to distinctly characterize the band members’ looks, so I opted for casting them as celebrities in my mind. My choices were as follows: lead singer and guitarist Taylor Goldsmith was Ryan Cabrera; bassist Wylie Gelber had the slight stature of Joseph Gordon Levitt and the face of a harrier Justin Long; pianist Tay Strathairn was Ryan Gosling (brb, swooning); and drummer Griffin Goldsmith (brother to Taylor) was Jesse Eisenberg with a mean afro. Anyways.

The band mostly played songs from their recently released album, Nothing is Wrong.  Their set was good, and just good.   It is a rare occasion for me to like a band’s recording more than their live set—I find that many artists bring a real sense of newness and individuality to a live performance.  However, I found myself missing the earnest simplicity that seemed to characterize the studio album as I watched [Taylor Goldsmith] making gimmicky mannerisms (the classic “hold your hand up to the crowd while singing,” but not in a cool, unifying way…more like in a sort of an annoying Christina Aguilera way), over-singing and over-emphasizing words at incongruent times, pretending that somewhat normal guitar solos were extraordinarily epic, and just generally overacting.  I’m all about performance, but I think a performance should match the music, and these guys were playing nice, well-written songs à la Bob Dylan and performing like Lady Gaga (ok, perhaps that’s a gross exaggeration, but you get the point).

Alas, Dawes looks nothing like my casting choices.  Except for Justin Long/___.

One example of a memorable feeling of annoyance for me (with these aforementioned observations in mind) arose during the band’s playing of “Little Bit of Everything.”  Let me just start by saying I really like this song.  I might even love it.  It is sad and lovely.  It begins with a man about to commit suicide, it continues with an old man reflecting on his life, and it finishes with a young woman stoically entering a new chapter of her life. Again, this song is sad and lovely.  So, when [Taylor] Goldsmith plays the song like it’s a stadium rocker, this both confuses me and annoys me.  In my opinion, that song speaks for itself, and a modest performance would have let it do just that (like in the video below).

“Little Bit of Everything” by Dawes

So, now that the mean, critical stuff is over, let me just say that the set was good, had plenty of people entertained, and served as a great supporting act for the whimsical Brett Dennen.  “When My Time Comes”, a song off their first album North Hills, was easily my favorite of the night with its country flavor, powerful vocals from [Taylor] Goldsmith, breathtaking dramatic pauses before an explosion into the chorus, a plucky, cool (and actually detectable) bassline, talent-showcasing piano parts (I was actually quite impressed by the dreamy Tay Strathairn the entire night), and an inspiring use of a capella harmonies. If every song had been like this, I would’ve been out of my seat with amazement.

Dawes – When My Time Comes by RootMusic

Overall, I encourage you to give their studio recordings, North Hills and the new release, Nothing is Wrong, a try—they are the perfect soundtrack to those sunny summer days somehow shaded by sadness.  They sound similar to The Avett Brothers and occasionally present the sentimentality of James Taylor; they have strong songwriting skills, hinting at influences from Okkervil River and Ben Folds.

My final thought: there is a lot to love about Dawes’ recorded music, but, if you miss a live show by them, you’re probably not missing out on much.