Old 97′s and Ben Kweller raise money for Hill Country with fun, exciting show

Last night, Shannon and I ventured to Stubb’s for the second time in the last five days for another live show: Old 97’s and Ben Kweller, who were holding a benefit concert for the Hill Country Conservancy, which raises funds to preserve the natural landscapes and waterways of our beautiful area.

This time we weren’t late (well, we got there about four minutes after Kweller started, but that’s an improvement from our major tardiness at the Vampire Weekend show).  Luckily, we were able to find a good spot up front.  Shannon was so excited that she accidentally kicked some woman in the back of the leg, and while we were laughing about something else, the woman turned around to snidely ask, “Yes?” I had no idea what was going on, so I told her that we weren’t laughing at her.  “Well, someone kicked me.” At the time, I didn’t know about Shannon’s excited indiscretion, and I innocently responded that she was looking at the wrong people.  We soon decided that we needed a better vibe and moved further up front to enjoy Kweller’s eclectic sounds.

Kweller, who now resides in Austin, seems to have picked up on the vibe of the city, as he combines country with pop while alternating between the piano and guitar.  At times, such as when he sang “Falling,” he reminds me of a countrified Billy Joel.  At other points, he picks up more of a poppy sound that’s reminiscent of Death Cab for Cutie.  His catchy, rhythmic performance and smooth lyrics proved to be an excellent complement to the Old 97’s, who have been a longstanding favorite of mine since seeing them for the first time at Antone’s in 1999.

My experience with Rhett Miller, the Old 97’s lead vocalist, actually dates back to 1996, when he came to our mutual alma mater, St. Mark’s, in Dallas to play for an upper school assembly.   At the time, no one had really heard of him, but he quickly won over the audience (which was a tough task given that it was an all boys’ school that had a distaste for country music despite the Texas setting).  Miller’s not necessarily country, but there’s a definite folk influence to his rocking sounds.  I specifically remember Miller playing some funky songs about algebraic rules, which he said helped him learn a subject that was especially tough for him back in his school days.

These memories flooded back as the 39-year-old Miller preceded one of his songs, “Question,” with some reminiscing about how he owes his two beautiful children to this one.  After all, he wrote “Question” as a proposal to his wife, and the wonderful parts of his personal life have followed.  Shannon leaned over and commented that it’s refreshing to see an established artist so grounded with his priorities.  Perhaps, that comes from his upbringing among Dallas elitists – you realize that all the money in the world doesn’t buy happiness.  On the other hand, lots of other artists come from poor socioeconomic backgrounds, and making money becomes the ultimate goal of their music careers.  Sometimes, it’s too late to turn back when they realize that they’ve sold out for something that can’t make them happy in itself.  Miller and the Old 97’s continue to be as vibrant today as ten years ago because of their independent spirit and the joy they find in life’s simpler wonders.  Their songs effuse this positive vibe.

Most importantly, they have fun while they’re performing.  Miller brings an almost hyper energy to the stage, especially with renditions of “Great Barrier Reef,” “Roller Skate Skinny,” and “Big Brown Eyes.” He intermittently turns the stage over to bassist Murry Hammond, whose softer vocals, typified by “West Texas Teardrops,” provide a welcome contrast.  The faster songs brought a contagious energy that caused us to jump around, singing along at the top of our lungs.   Meanwhile the slower, heartfelt ones gave us moments to pause, hold each other, and reflect on the music’s evocative powers.  I don’t think it’s possible to hear Miller sing “Question” and not want to hold your partner’s hand.

Despite their high energy on a warm Austin evening, Old 97’s ended up playing for over 90 minutes.  Prior to the final encore, I was so happy with the show that I was ready to forgive them for not playing my favorite song, “Time Bomb.” Just then, the sweat-laden Miller chugged the rest of his Dos Equis, and the familiar sounds of “Time Bomb” began cranking.  There couldn’t be a better way to end an awesome night.