Shovels & Rope at the Biltmore Cabaret, April 4, 2013

In the the months since then Shovels & Rope have been gaining steam, and their most recent tour sees the South Carolina duo filing the opening slot for country punk-rockers Lucero. The penultimate show of the tour visited a packed to the rafters Biltmore Cabaret in Vancouver to play for an audience full of people asking the same question: “Do you know anything about this Lucero band?”

Surely, there was some portion of the audience who were familiar with the headliners but the crowd that had formed by the time Shovels & Rope hit the stage was bigger than I’ve seen in ages at the modestly sized venue, and made me glad to have snagged a spot earlier sitting comfortably at stage left. My notes from the night say “Holy crap this place is crowded.” I don’t often say that at late shows on weeknights in Vancouver.

Taking the stage shortly after 9:00, the set started with Cary Ann Hearst on guitar and Michael Trent on what may be the most modest and understated drum kit I’ve ever seen played live. That modesty proved false, apparently, as Trent and Hearts came out swinging hard with a big sound opening their set with O’ be Joyful and Gasoline. Calling the crowd’s response “enthusiastic” doesn’t really do it justice, but let’s just stick with that…for now at least.

Somewhere in between playing Magdalina—introduced as a “cowboy version of Mary Magdalene’s love story” in honour of Easter—and Pensacola the band actually switched places with Trent taking over the guitar and Hearst playing drums. Don’t get me wrong: they didn’t stop playing to do this. It happened mid-song, without a beat being missed. Apparently the band’s work ethic doesn’t allow for things like “breaks.”

By this time, less than half way into the opening set, it was abundantly clear that we were watching something special on stage—a performance by an opening band that should, at this point, be headlining—the kind of show that in future days you get to tell your friends you were at (even if you did miss that last one, at a tiny venue.)

The band continued with a set heavy on the fast twangy stuff they’ve become known for. Hollowpoint Blues’ refrain of “Told my secret to a junkie whore…” lost none of its intensity in a city where the politics of poverty can make such comments unwelcome.

The undisputed highlight of the night came when Hearst resumed guitar duties and played the intro to Birmingham, the opening track from the the O’ Be Joyful album. “You must recognise this chord. It’s G. The key of G is the people’s key,” she said, before Trent started tapping the familiar beat on his drum kit. Suddenly, when the chorus hit there was an entire club full of people singing along, unprompted: “Rock of ages cleave for me / let me hide myself in thee / buried in the sand / 500 miles from Birmingham.” It was one of those pure moments that makes live music worth seeing.

With the set winding to a close, Trent picked up a guitar again—I’m not sure when they switched this time, the two move so fluidly between the instruments—and announced that there’d been a “…request for a slower song.” Undeterred by the audience’s response the band launched into Lay Low with Trent dedicating it to “…the guy over there…you owe me bro.” The band closed their set with Hail Hail, wrapping up a solid 45 minutes of music virtually without pause.

There’s a complicated matrix that goes into a good live show: solid songs aren’t enough on their own. It’s a mix of the music, the on stage chemistry, the audience, the venue and a mysterious mojo that combines to make the whole thing work. When all of those things are hitting on all cylinders, the result is pure. If any one of theme fails, it can bring a whole show down. I’ve seen great performances that were dragged down an audience that just didn’t seem invested.

It’s hard to imagine that ever happening at a Shovels & Rope show. Trent & Hearst’s ace in the hole seems to be an ability to bring a relentless level of energy to the stage that’s impossible to not be overwhelmed by. With only one show left after a tour that saw the band “make it all the way across Canada” you might expect to see a tired, worn out pair of musicians on stage. If they were, it wasn’t evident: this might as well have been an opening night show.

That tiny, minimalist drum kit made me think about other bands that travel with ornate rows of guitars, banjos and full drum sets. For Shovels & Rope it’s not about the gear: playing small stages with only a couple of guitars and a couple of drums is a band that’s putting out as full a sound and performance as anything I’ve seen in ages. Here’s hoping the band doesn’t gear up in the meantime: it might change the fundamental nature of that sound.

This is one of those rare occasions where everything you’ve heard is true, and the near universal praise is well deserved. Shovels & Rope are working hard to entertain you–all you have to do is show up. The good time is guaranteed.