LIVE REVIEW: Nikki Lane @ The El Rey

Date night in Los Angeles usually means carefully ripped jeans, soft grey t-shirts, and expensive jewelry that says “I’m not trying too hard.” The crowd at Nikki Lane’s show got the memo and sent it right back. Retro cowboy attire was out in full force, leading to a lot of wide-brimmed hat ducking throughout the night.

The lineup had changed a few times in the days leading up to the show. Unfortunately, my date & I were still eating empanadas next door when Jenny O. went onstage. Jonathan Tyler greeted us at the door with a cover of “I’m A Pilgrim;” Tyler’s band, The Northern Lights, normally give the hymn an upbeat, southern gospel feel, but this night the cover was a much more laid back affair – just a man and his guitar. Without the full band, Tyler shelved the majority of his southern rock catalogue and focused his energy on standards and stripped-down renditions of old favorites. A highlight in the evening was a cover of Bob Dylan’s “Girl From The North Country,” a tune that always seems to garner a quiet hum from an audience. Nikki Lane’s band joined Tyler onstage for the last few songs, a welcome reprieve from the more somber set.

The show was something of a homecoming for Nikki Lane, who fled the LA’s fashion scene to make a country album in Nashville. Looking out over a packed El Rey, she marveled,”This is the most people who’ve come to see me play in my entire career.” The soft, mellow notes of “Highway Queen” eased the crowd into Lane’s world of Marlboro Lights, blacktop, and tight blue jeans. Lane stood confidently in an embroidered white suit adorned with slot machines and rolling dice. The night was a mixture of music and backstory: at 17, she dropped out of school; at 18, she almost financed a washing machine in North Carolina; at 20, she was living in California pursuing a fashion career; at 28, she was getting drunk in Brooklyn, New York, thinking about making an album. The rest, as they say, is history. The self-proclaimed “Queen of Outlaw Country” went on to make three successful records, beginning with Walk of Shame in 2011, following it up with All or Nothin’ in 2014, and finally releasing Highway Queen in February of this year.

“This next one’s called ‘Man Up.’ It’s about kicking my ex-husband in the ass,” Lane chuckled, glancing over with a blush at her tour mate Tyler, who also happens to be her new beau. The chemistry between Tyler and Lane was so electric I found myself furiously googling “Nikki Lane new boyfriend” before Lane had a chance to call it out herself. Their duet “To Love Is To Fly” slowed the evening down nicely, everyone watching with unabashed excitement as the couple sang cheek-to-cheek.

Lane did her best to keep the crowd on their toes; “Sleep with a Stranger,” for instance, got everyone dancing in the aisles. The show ran a little slow for me at times, as many of Lane’s songs hit a similar note when played back-to-back. In spite of that, it a perfect date-night concert, full of playful banter and bolstered by a rowdy, boot-wearing crowd. “Jackpot,” Nikki’s love letter to Tyler, finished out the night. I could still hear the lyrics as we jumped into our Lyft: “True love don’t come til you lay it all down the line…”

Nikki Lane’s tour is in full swing. Check out all upcoming dates on her website.

FESTIVAL REVIEW: Newport Folk Fest ’15 Day 2

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Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

At eleven this morning, Spirit Family Reunion are giving their best sun salutation and we accompany them with hands and hearts. These rabble-rousers make dangerous music, you know the type, the kind that makes you want to swallow a glass of whiskey whole and howl into the night.

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Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

Throughout the day Madisen Ward and the Mama Bear sing us regal goat songs, the Barr Brothers serenade with sweet harp lullabies, and Nikki Lane rocks us dirty. When an audience member voices his approval, Langhorne Slim assures us that “you sound good too.” I look around at the scenic harbor and feel a pang of jealousy for every musician that gets to play music where the air smells of raven waters.

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Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

Even Sufjan Stevens mentions that playing this festival is a lifelong dream come true for him. His humanity has never been more apparent. He laughs as the audience helps him remember the words to the second verse of “Casimir Pulaski Day” and when he chokes out some of the higher notes he recalls that those same notes were a lot “easier when [/fusion_builder_column][fusion_builder_column type=”1_1″ background_position=”left top” background_color=”” border_size=”” border_color=”” border_style=”solid” spacing=”yes” background_image=”” background_repeat=”no-repeat” padding=”” margin_top=”0px” margin_bottom=”0px” class=”” id=”” animation_type=”” animation_speed=”0.3″ animation_direction=”left” hide_on_mobile=”no” center_content=”no” min_height=”none”][he] was younger.” We hear in Sufjan’s voice the ephemeral nature of everything; he intones “we’re all gonna die” and we allow ourselves to both recognize and release this simple fact. It is a moment of perfect chaos, heavy lightness. Sufjan plays us out with a hypno-dystopian version of “Chicago” and for the moment we believe in fairies.

Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

The Decemberists, ever professional, come outfitted in suits and make the kids twist and shout. We head out just in time to catch the next water taxi and marvel at how easy it would be to get used to this.

Photo by Mery Cheung
Photo by Mery Cheung

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