The Avett Brothers – Blast from the grass
That integration of styles has never been more in evidence than on Four Thieves Gone. Subtitled The Robbinsville Sessions, the new disc marks the most successful instance yet of the band harnessing the spirit of their live shows and integrating that energy into their songwriting and arrangements.
“We took the studio with us, instead of going to the studio,” Seth explains. “We rented a house for twelve days in a town called Robbinsville, in western North Carolina, and actually recorded 31 songs in eleven days. But beyond the whole mobile studio kind of thing, the character of the sessions was different. Whenever we’ve recorded before, we’ve had all the songs ready, where we already knew what songs were going to be on the record. This situation was much looser. We went in with the attitude that we were just going to record a bunch of songs, and kind of let the album make itself.”
Examples of the live-in-the-studio vibe abound on Four Thieves Gone. “Talk On Indolence”, the opening track, establishes a template for much of what follows. After kicking the song off with a frantic, run-for-your-life soliloquy, the Brothers break into a raucous stomp comprised of full-strummed banjo and guitar, whoops and handclaps, and a vocal melody that’s just this side of a sing-along. Later, in a bridge of sorts, the Avett Brothers ratchet the tempo down to a snail’s pace before pressing the punk pedal fully to the floor.
Other high points on the album include Seth’s lament “Sixteen In July”, which conjures up the spirit of Buddy Holly; the sweetly rendered midtempo song “A Lover Like You”, which features a melody reminiscent of pop radio’s heyday; and “Pretend Love”, which is probably the closest the Avett Brothers have come to a straight-up country ballad.
“Seth and I have a big stockpile of those,” says Scott of the large number of melancholy songs that came out of the sessions. “It’s much easier to write about something sad, or something somber or tender, than it is to write a happy song. And we didn’t want to hold back with the ballads this time. We have a reputation for being a wild band who does crazy live shows, but we don’t want that to overshadow the goals we’re trying to get to, artistically.”
Indeed, that reputation for “crazy live shows” is well-founded. Both Scott and Seth cite Mike Patton, singer for Faith No More, as a primary influence. “I used to go onstage and try to copy every move he did,” says Scott. “I knew I couldn’t be exactly like him, but I like his aggressive approach.”
Crawford adds that the Avett Brothers’ songs take on a malleable quality in live performance, depending on the flavor of the venue. “Whenever we’re in front of a crowd, the energy coming off the crowd and the energy between us onstage gives a song whatever attitude it takes,” he says. “I’ve noticed, being with the Avett Brothers for four years now, that the same song can take on a different style, depending on the setting. Even if it’s one of our faster numbers, if we’re playing at a nice theater a song may come out as sweeter, or more country-flavored. Whereas if we’re in a punk club, the same song might take on a more violent fervor.”
To be sure, for every ballad or midtempo number on Four Thieves Gone, there’s at least one other song that’s delivered with let ‘er rip abandon. What’s most striking, however, is the emphasis on melody and vocal harmonies, even on the most boisterous songs. The Avett Brothers’ harmonies sound as facile and natural as something handed down from heaven, but Scott insists they’re the result of countless hours of work.
“There’s a lot of analyzing, where we sort of put the harmonies under a microscope,” he says. “We work them out on piano, note by note, to really get them right, and that can take a while. Once you do them live for a while, it becomes second nature, and you can rattle them off and make it seem easy. But finding them is never as easy as it appears.”
Despite the crazy-quilt nature of their music, the Avett Brothers have their eyes and ears firmly trained on bluegrass traditions. Still, stamping one’s own unique signature on a traditional style of music sometimes draws the ire of would-be protectors of the faith. To their credit, the members of the band absorb the occasional jabs in good humor. They’re also buoyed by the sheer breadth of the crowds who come to the see their live shows.
“Some venues still feature us on ‘bluegrass night,’ which seems kind of weird to us, but the crowds do seem to identify with what we do,” Crawford says. “For every person who says something bad, we have five or six other people who love what we’re doing. We get lots of parents of very young children at the shows; a lot of young families. And we’re also seeing more and more seniors — couples in their 70s who stay till two in the morning. And of course there are lots of fans our own age, the 18-to-35 age group.”
Seth attributes the appeal of the Avett Brothers’ music, and of roots music in general, to its communal nature. He also suggests that it has something to do with integrity — a quality that, in his view, is lacking in lots of mainstream pop culture.
“I would say this music is very ‘for the people,'” he says. “It’s very human. I guess what we do is some sort of folk music, and it’s called ‘folk’ for a reason. The emotional content and the everyday content of the songs are very accessible, and easy to connect to, if you’ve experienced anything in life at all. The songs are about love, and heartbreak, and work — the things we all live with, and live through, and have to deal with. People can relate to that, and those things come through clearly in this type of music.”
Russell Hall lives in Anderson, South Carolina, where he writes and maintains a music blog for the local newspaper, the Anderson Independent-Mail. His work has appeared in Goldmine, Alternative Press and the Oxford American, among many other publications.