REVIEW
Fleet Foxes a treat for capacity crowd
By Kevin W. Smith
ksmith@azstarnet.com
Tucson, Arizona | Published: 07.03.2008
Tucson may not get the hottest pop stars, but we are often privy to sets by up-and-coming independent artists.
Solar Culture Gallery has played host to three of the most hyped indie bands of recent years: Arcade Fire in 2005, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah in 2006, and the latest, Seattle's Fleet Foxes on Monday night.
For those who follow the rise of unknown indie acts, the obvious problem is the gamble you take: Do you believe these fawning keyboard-punching yahoos or not?
Arcade Fire has since proved it was worth the adulation and more, Clap Your Hands Say Yeah not so much.
If you were among the 150 or so people who made it inside Solar Culture Monday for Fleet Foxes, the only suckers were the ones stuck outside. The Downtown warehouse reached capacity using only door sales, no advance tickets.
Such is the draw for Fleet Foxes, whose bearded faces are just about everywhere lately; if you haven't seen them in your favorite online or print publication yet, you will.
The folkie group has been getting roses of praise thrown at it at every tour stop, both at home and overseas.
Following a set at least four songs too long from opener The Dutchess and the Duke, the five dudes in Fleet Foxes took the stage looking like they just got back from a Phish tour.
Solar Culture was shoulder-to-shoulder and sweaty, but Fleet Foxes lead singer and songwriter Robin Pecknold was wearing a woolen ski hat. Now that's Northwest gangsta.
Calling Pecknold the group's lead singer is a little deceiving, as four of the five members contribute throughout various songs, usually all at the same time, creating these ethereal harmonies.
Part of what sets Fleet Foxes apart from other vocal harmony acts today is that they do not just rely just on that. The group's songs twist and morph throughout in unpredictable ways.
Pecknold's lyrics invoke images of mountains, forests and valleys that mingle with spiritual talk of death, shadows and demons.
As great as the music sounds on its debut EP, "Sun Giant," and on its self-titled album, both released this year, the songs are just incredible live.
With simple strings and vocals, you barely noticed how little the band relied on percussion during opening numbers "Sun Giant" and "Sun It Rises," and when more pronounced drums hit during the third song, "Drops in the River," it felt like a kick in the chest.
The Solar Culture crowd was captivated for the infectious "White Winter Hymnal" and downhill rush of "English House," with hardly any background chatter at any point throughout.
Fleet Foxes also didn't seem to take themselves too seriously, joking with the audience, talking about how various locations in Tucson were said to be haunted and tossing water bottles into the mostly 20-something crowd who spoke of dehydration.
Despite the sometimes uncomfortable conditions inside, this was a night in which you ignored distractions and just enjoyed what was.
The evening's most telling moment came after the band left the stage following closer "Blue Ridge Mountains," and, as the house lights and music came on, the crowd stood cheering, unwilling to leave without an encore.
Pecknold jumped back on stage alone to perform "Tiger Mountain Peasant Song."
"I don't know what I have done / I'm turning myself to a demon," Pecknold sang before the song's conclusion.
Even if so, Fleet Foxes make it sound so pretty.
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