Iron & Wine
Iron And Wine
St George's, Bristol
Sunday 28th October 2007
By Meg Rowell
'Thanks for coming on a Sunday evening. Welcome to church!' pronounces Sam Beam, the revered American folk musician who goes under the moniker of Iron And Wine, before launching into the delicate, rolling beats and hazy vocals of Lovesong Of The Buzzard, the third track off Beam's new album, The Shepherd's Dog.
As the third full album from Iron And Wine, discounting several E.P.s and a full length collaboration with fellow alt-folksters Calexico, Beam's latest offering has been highly anticipated by fans and critics alike, despite the uneasy revelation that The Shepherd's Dog strays noticeably from the folk and country roots that has so far made Iron And Wine's name. As the UK leg of his tour to support the new release, tonight's show appears to be the perfect opportunity to find out just how well the new material would stand up against Iron And Wine's impressive, and critically acclaimed, back catalogue.
Thankfully, as Beam and his band stride easily into another Shepherd's Dog track, the bluesy and smokily sung Peace Beneath The City, before charging headfirst into the Latino-inspired beats of Innocent Bones, it's clear that we won't be disappointed. Blown away, yes, but certainly not disappointed.
For the first of only a few forays away from The Shepherd's Dog, we're indulged by a lingering version of On Your Wings, the opening track from 2004's Our Endless Days, before being whisked into the biting Evening On The Ground (Lileth's Song) from the following year's Woman King E.P.
Back in the realm of new material and, in comparison to most Iron And Wine tracks, it's the distinctly modern-sounding Boy With A Coin, before we're plunged blindly into the most affecting song of the set, the heart-breaking Sodom, South Georgia, the lines 'Papa died while my girl Lady Edith was born, both heads fell like eyes on a crack in the door...Papa died Sunday and I understood, all dead white boys say, 'God is good'...' showing Beam's undeniable talent for writing, putting him up there with the kings of folk lyricism, Will Oldham, Bill Callahan and Sufjan Stevens.
It would be easy to say that Sodom, South Georgia, because of its emotional pull and sharp imagery, was the stand-out track of the set, but tonight, it's the entire set that stands out, each song having been chosen to compliment each other perfectly, taking us along on the rollercoaster road trip that is Sam Beam's mind.
And so, just as the imagery of 'Papa died smiling...' begins to bring us down, Beam cleverly brings us back to life with the calypso led House By The Sea, seeing him breaking into a smile for the first time this evening. And yet, just when we're starting to have fun, he knocks us over again with the politically scathing Carousel, and then shoots us down with the tenderly sung Upward Over The Mountain, a bitter sweet lullaby of repentance and regret, again proving Beam as one of the most poetic lyricists of his generation.
From there, we're taken back to 2003's The Sea and the Rhythm and then fast-forwarded to new track Wolves (Song Of The Shepherd's Dog), a reggae infused mythological tale that undoubtedly gave the new album its name. After a furious dub inspired instrumental, showcasing Beam's recent musical diversion, we're returned to more comfortable realms with the distinctly country-led Resurrection Fern and then on to the closing song of the album, and, fittingly, the set, the simply sweet Flightless Bird, American Mouth, a song which wouldn't sound out of place on a Disney soundtrack, its goose-bump inducing chorus melting the hearts of all those present.
As the set draws to a close and the last strains of Flightless Bird, American Mouth shiver their way out of our collective subconscious, Sam Beam and his fellow musicians leave the stage to the most rapturous applause I think I've ever heard. As the audience demand the band's return, I find myself thinking how strange it must be for Beam, as someone who shies away from fame so strictly, to be applauded, whooped and whistled at so admiringly, like the superstar he so clearly steers himself away from being.
Unable to ignore the drumming of feet any longer he returns to the stage, thanking us with a quick and gracious nod of the head, before leaving us with a softly sung version of his 2005 collaboration with Calexico, He Lays In The Reins. It's a rare moment when the lights go up after a show and there isn't a disappointed face in the house. Blown away, yes, but certainly not disappointed.
For more information about Iron And Wine, including any forthcoming UK tour dates, click here.
