When I saw the Swell Season in downtown Raleigh at Meymandi Concert Hall in 2008, I considered it, overall, maybe the best concert experience I had ever had. Flash forward two years into the future, think about a band that is truly refining its sound and substitute the setting for an outdoor venue at the beautifully renovated North Carolina Museum of Art, and in my estimation you have an even more incredible show by a truly amazing band.
Most still think of the Swell Season as the redheaded offspring of Glen Hansard’s the Frames and the landmark movie “Once,” with Hansard and the immensely talented Marketa Irglova taking their on-screen romance into real life and, well, on-stage again as the Swell Season. But even that tremendous movie discounts not only the individual talents of Hansard, the ultimate showman, and Irglova, the sweet-voiced pianist, but also the incredible array of skills offered by the rest of the band: Colm Mac Con Iomaire (violin), Rob Bochnik (guitar), Joseph Doyle (bass) and Graham Hopkins (drums). While the supporting cast changes from time to time, the music is always spot on.
This overall tightness is even more remarkable when you consider how spontaneous the set list and transitions can be, with Hansard often inspired to pull a song out of the vault to match a moment and relying on his bandmates to be on key and in lock step with him. A hysterical example of this is when a pair of drunken lesbians were essentially kicked out of the front of the audience because they kept standing up directly in front of Hansard, blocking views. This led Hansard to allow them to stand at the back of the stage as he laughingly played a tongue-in-cheek solo of “Leave.”
The story of Thelma and Louise: Part Butch was part of a larger, slightly combative atmosphere created from the start of the show between the band, the venue and the audience (partly bolstered by an over-emphatic black dude who appeared to be, um, attending a rather different concert than everyone else). Just moments after the Museum of Art’s director sternly asked that no one enter the 30-foot chasm between the front rows of the amphitheater out of respect for the big donors just before introducing the band, Hansard came out and said that folks could fill in the empty spaces because he was a bit freaked out by the disconnection between band and audience. This led to a mass rush of people from the lawn to grab the select seating just in front of the band, which led to some moaning from the stodgy, older big-money folks, who had no idea who the Swell Season were but knew damned well that they had paid big scratch for the right to ensure that no hippie kind rubbed elbows with them or obstructed their view.
When the duo mentioned before were admonished by fellow fans (who were sitting where they weren’t supposed to be as well), Hansard intervened to invite them on stage. By way of explanation, he said that he wasn’t trying to be sarcastic or controversial, but he felt that people at a concert should be able to stand or sing along if they want. “It is a rock show, after all,” he said, completely pissing off a couple score of upper-crust prepsters -- while simultaneously encapsulating his entire musical philosophy in seven words.
Because what is apart and above about the Swell Season is that indelible and sacred bond with the audience, a forged camaraderie that is just not seen in bands these days. So many acts are about themselves; the Swell Season is about you, the crowd. They realize and value the idea that they are there for you, that you have paid for the right to be a part of their entertainment, and they truly cherish and honor that dynamic. The fact that they love what they do seeps through their music, and it is a truly refreshing sight to see—and sound to hear.
Heck, Hansard spends much of his time asking for audience participation, whether that is to harmonize a chorus, sing along or offer up a song request. The collaborative feel pinnacled when, during an encore cover of Bruce Springsteen’s “Drive All Night,” Hansard called up a dude out of the crowd who delivered a couple chorus repeats before introducing the band and thanking them on behalf of the crowd. It was a hilarious moment—leading to a hug between Hansard and the dude and Hansard remarking that the guy just performed an “intense act of bravery”—and one that is special and unique to the Swell Season.
At this point, you may have noticed that I have spoken almost exclusively about Hansard and not Irglova; well, you are right, and that’s no accident. Throughout the show, Irglova, sporting super-short hair, seemed very reserved and subdued. She has always been shy, but she seemed to be put off to the side and not as involved as usual, leading me to speculate that there had to be some reason for the seeming disconnection and detachment. Well, sure enough, I later learned that she and Hansard, who had a two-year romance, split up relatively recently (he’s 40, she’s 22). I have to wonder whether Hansard’s outsized personality has now completely overpowered and swallowed up Irglova, who is more low-key and introspective. He dominates the stage and the band, and while that can’t be held against him, it seems to have forced Irglova into kind of a submissive role of sitting quietly next to the piano and waiting to contribute every seven songs or so. I even thought Hansard should not have provided backup on Irglova’s “I Have Loved You Wrong”; his voice detracted from Irglova’s and was wholly unnecessary.
The latest album, “Strict Joy,” is much more melancholy than much of the work of the Frames and Swell Season, and Hansard admitted that a big reason why is the breakup of he and Irglova; apparently they had to add in a couple of up-tempo songs in order to save the entire thing from sounding like suicide folk rock.
It’s possible I’m reading too much into what I construed as some tension between Hansard and Irglova, because one article indicated that they both agreed on wanting to continue to tour and play together to see how it felt. However, part of me is hoping against hope that I’m wrong in thinking that Irglova may eventually strike out on her own in the not-too-distant future.
As to the actual music, the Swell Season is among those oh-so-rare bands that is better live than recorded. Among the highlights were a tremendous cover of Van Morrison’s “Into the Mystic,” a repeat of a favorite from the 2008 show, the Pixies’ “Cactus,” a kickoff with the sticks-with-you “Low Rising,” an all-to-the-front rendition of “Gold,” a frantic playing of “The Verb,” and a very moving version of “When Your Mind’s Made Up.” I wasn’t a fan of the selection of the Springsteen tune, but with a 45-minute encore, who the hell am I to complain?
The bottom line is the Swell Season live is one of the most phenomenal musical experiences you can have. The raw power of the band is in direct reciprocation of you as the audience -- they encourage, inspire and feed off the energy of the crowd. It’s what music is truly supposed to be about.
As Hansard himself said, “It is a rock show, after all.”
Indeed.
Among the best.
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