Fleet Foxes
Palace of Fine Arts - Apr 16, 2009
review by nikkiroddy

Some of the best bands sing the praises of ordinary life. When Jens Lekman describes, "slicing up an avocado," or Modest Mouse howls over "traveling swallowing Dramamine," we’re reminded of everyday life in all its beautiful and mundane glory. There are other bands, however, whose music transports the listener from familiar surroundings to a different world. The critically acclaimed quintet, Fleet Foxes, is the latter.

In the same way The Decemberists found mainstream appeal by conjuring imagery of legionnaires and petticoats, Fleet Foxes captures listeners with lyrical tales of silver knives and frozen rivers. But while they sometimes border on fantasy, their music remains effortlessly heartfelt and honest, booming with the power and yearning of the twentysomethings behind it.

It’s no wonder that when Fleet Foxes made their way to San Francisco in April, the Palace of Fine Arts sold out immediately. Taking the stage, the five members of Fleet Foxes appear dressed in varying shades of plaid, and all but one, (lead guitarist Skyler Skjelset), sport large, scruffy beards, making the young group with rugged charm look less like average hipsters, and more like genuine woodsmen plucked from a mountaintop. The show’s only downside is the venue's seating arrangement, which requires the audience to stay seated during the show. Even lead singer, Robin Pecknold, comments on the theatre’s uncanny resemblance to a high school auditorium.

Seating aside, the atmosphere of the show is undeniably magical. Robin's vocals are rich and strong, and the when the rest of the band joins in for harmonies on songs such as "White Winter Hymnal" and "Your Protector," their collective performance is both raw and incredibly refined. Tearing through almost every song off their universally praised debut album, Fleet Foxes, the band alternates between playing together and leaving only Robin on the stage.

During one of his solos, Robin decides to "break the fourth wall" and sing into the crow without his microphone. The result is surprisingly intimate, like listening to someone belt his heart out around a campfire. It's difficult for those in the audience to not feel as though we’re witnessing something special.

But to characterize Fleet Foxes as a band of overly serious and emotional artists would be incorrect. They're funny. Really funny. Robin regales the audience between songs with self-deprecating stories of performing at middle school talent shows. The band chimes in, making fun of each other in the harsh and hilarious way that only a group of boys who are genuinely comfortable with each other do. At one point they even joke about killing Robin if he ever decides to wear leather pants on stage. The audience loves it.

As the show comes to a close, there's a sense that no one wants it to end. And although the audience has been confined to their seats the entire show, this only makes the standing ovation of thunderous applause that much sweeter.

posted Jun 10, 2009
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