Waxahatchee is named after a creek near Katie Crutchfield's Alabama home. Yet, her music speaks more about time than place: specifically those periods of transition and uncertainty in life. Talking about the title of her third album, Ivy Trip, she explained: "it's just a term I made up for directionless-ness, specifically of the 20-something, 30-something, 40-something of today, lacking regard for the complacent life path of our parents and grandparents." Time is also relevant in terms of the influence of 90's lo-fi and punk on its sound, though the music probably appeals to me more because of the distant echoes of American folk and country, which do emanate from the place she grew up.
Perhaps above all, Waxahatchee speaks of authenticity of experience. She has the confessional in common with Torres, who deeply affected me at Primavera recently, as well as often dark subject matter. Yet it feels less like Sharon Van Etten's therapeutic channeling of emotion than a natural, unforced chronicling of Katie's world. Taking a pause from the festival season, I was reminded how disarmingly intense an experience a show in small, indoor club can be. Like Tobias Jesso Jr. on piano, her use of guitar is relatively simple; which only serves to put a stronger focus on the songwriting. Her direct way with words isn't found wanting in this spotlight: it takes a particular genius to make art feel so natural and inevitable.
It also goes far beyond a personal project, both in terms of speaking of the human condition universally, and in going beyond a solo act musically. Waxahatchee is a collaboration with her twin sister, Allison, an established musician in her own right, and she tours with two other guitarists. Yet, the most notable collaborator last night was the ferocious drummer Ashley Arnwine: I was sorry to have missed his own band Pinkwash who opened for her. The intimacy of their interplay on stage gave the illusion of eavesdropping on a private session between friends. Much has been made of Waxhatchee's move to a new label, bringing with it an increased complexity of sound on Ivy Trip, yet this feels peripheral. The core of the music remains catchy choruses, danceable rhythms on tracks like Lips & Limbs, and Katie's emotional voice.
Almost as if a dream, the hour long set passed all too quickly, the songs all too brief, often ending abruptly after 2 or 3 minutes; brief fragments in time which I've tried to recapture since by listening to the albums over and over again. Reinforcing the authenticity of the evening, Katie expressed sincere gratitude to the (enthusiastic) audience, but let the songs speak for themselves, instead of risking distraction with anecdotes. Air was one of the deeper, standout moments, but for me the emotional core came in the solo encores, when Katie returned to her roots, and demonstrated once again the power of simplicity. Ironically, given her youthful age, it's taken greater life experience for me to gain an appreciation of this act. On her last visit to Manchester in 2013, I was confused by the juxtaposition of vulnerable vocals and assertive instrumentals. Perhaps too, the passage of time has increased Katie's almost magical ability to project her feelings to the audience so affectingly.
- Under A Rock
- Misery / Dispute
- Waiting
- The Dirt
- Lively
- Poison
- Brother Bryan
- Less Than
- Lips & Limbs
- Blue
- Blue Pt II
- Grey Hair
- Air
- Coast To Coast
- La Loose
- Peace & Quiet
- Bonfire
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