Robin Pecknold does not deal in charades of passion. On Wednesday night, under the dimly lit arch of The Chapel, San Francisco’s most beanied 30-year-olds convened to witness the singer-songwriter’s first appearance in the city on his solo tour. More popularly accompanied by his indie folk group Fleet Foxes, Pecknold’s set was entirely acoustic, intended to, as he expressed at the start of the show, intimately vivify some of the under-recognized portions of his discography that were previously often excluded from full-band setlists.
With this deep-cut guarantee, much of the audience was predictably die-hard, enthused with a devotional spirit befitting of the venue’s name. Floating about the standing room before the start of the show, the crowd’s preemptive adulation seemed somewhat overzealous without a worthy target. After a sweet and vaguely stirring set from opener Uwade, the energy was finally relieved of its aimless hovering when Pecknold took the stage. Flanked by a circular configuration of string and wood, he shifted into his seat alongside five acoustic guitars, thanked the audience, and proceeded to skewer all the room’s anticipation with a musical effluence deserving of the adoration.
Throughout the set, Pecknold delivered on his promise of deep cuts, excavating the margins of his oeuvre with careful, hunched-over diligence. Shuffling between the five guitars onstage, different tracks took on individualized tonalities. Some, like “I Should See Memphis” and “Kept Woman,” flooded the Chapel’s barn-like interior with a cool, fluid sonority. Others, like the standout second song “Sunblind,”—from the most recent Fleet Foxes record Shore—blushed with precious, brilliant texture. Constant throughout the set’s various movements was Pecknold’s tremendous vocal agility; despite the complex harmonies arranged for many of the original studio recordings, his isolated vocals were wholly sufficient, never rendering the songs bereft without a full-band accompaniment. In fact, Pecknold’s solo rendition of certain tracks, like “Sunblind,” exceeded their original excellence, cast with a new shade of intimacy when delivered by and only by the author himself. Characteristic of the folk tradition, each song had a sense of spontaneous cultivation, inviting familiar and unfamiliar ears alike to engage in the simple, passionate project of musical transmission.
The setlist streamed forth as an earnest reflection of whim, Pecknold’s original compositions organically mingled with his takes on other songs of similar folky flavor by artists like Joni Mitchell, Elliott Smith, and Judee Sill. Pecknold’s “Tiger Mountain Peasant Song” flowed seamlessly into a tender cover of Sill’s “Lopin’ Along Thru the Cosmos,” which he then followed with “Close My Eyes” by Arthur Russell, another of the night’s standout performances. If the audience was devoted to Pecknold, Pecknold was devoted to the sincerity of song, expressing both his own compositions and those of others with a commitment to their naked emotional content. Bookending the set with a cover of Elliott Smith’s “Pitseleh,” Pecknold concluded his soulful excursion as he did nearly all of the preceding songs: with a soft smile and a remark of authentic, hearty gratitude.
Review by Melody Caplan, photography by Aleeza Raveh
