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Mark Kozelek @ EBC 27.7.08 Reviewed

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<div class="NTForums_Quote">Posted By JamesBaker on 29 Jul 2008 3:02 PM Mark Kozelek @ East Brunswick Club 27.7.08
Mark Kozelek, he of Red House Painters and Sun Kil Moon, is a man with a mixed reputation. Surly. Brilliant. Depressing. Engaging. Bleak. Beautiful. Songwriting genius. Interpreter of AC/DC songs. It depends on who you ask, how you approach his music and, as far as his live performances are concerned, what kind of mood Mark is in. He has a mammoth catalogue of morose, dense songs that reward perseverance and attentiveness. It is melancholic and often maudlin music that attracts devotees and obsessives, in the same way The Smiths and Nick Drake do. This gig would display many of Kozelek's complexities and, happily, he was in a good mood. Probably 'cause we stayed quiet. 
 
On entering the East Brunswick Club on this frozen midwinter eve, each individual was issued strict instructions: NO phones, NO cameras. This was no doubt a directive from the touchy Kozelek to prevent distraction, but it also proved beneficial to the atmosphere of the gig. Though the room was probably only half full, the majority of the audience stood in reverential full attention to Kozelek's performance throughout - minimal fidgeting with devices, no flashing cameras thrust suddenly into your sight line and certainly no chirruping of phones. It's hard to recall a gig where the artist was paid so much respect, clearly the room was populated heavily with the aforementioned devotees. Kozelek and Sun Kil Moon guitarist Phil Carney rewarded the faithful with a compelling show. At first it seemed there was far too much reverb on Kozelek's vocal but this soon became potently effective. The mesmerising guitar and droning voice transfixing, the labyrinthine songs leading the audience through gloomy passages and down to deep, dark depths. 
 
Kozelek has a pile of songs about boxing. Indeed, violence has a presence in much of his music though it is rarely explicit.  An early highlight was Salvador Sanchez, the sorrowful tale of a Mexcian boxer, accomapnied here by intricate and, at times, startling guitar playing that was consistent throughout the evening. Tonight The Sky built and rose to the skylike expanses it described, another boxing number Duk Koo Kim gently swirled and swelled. The songs almost melded together such was the similarity of tempo and delivery and while some may have found this repetitive and boring, most in attendance were absorbed by the murky waters Kozelek was guiding us through. A slug of red wine and it was hard not to become fully submerged. These are lyrically heavy songs, in quality and quantity, that push on and on, pulling the listener along in their pulsing undertow. Kozelek's low, haunting voice is central to this effect, at times compared to Nick Drake but for this listener the closest reference would be a less countrified Jay Farrar. The descriptive, literate song writing was most powerful in the moving Carry Me Ohio and Moorestown, the latter an evocative illustration of small town America: "Our love grew more one Summer there, We'd spend our days just driving round, Old parking lots and neighborhoods, Are framed and charmed, in Moorestown..." 
 
Self deprecating and shy between songs ("Are you gong to sleep?...cos I am!", and to a familiar punter - "Weren't you here last night? Why would you put yourself through this twice?"),  Kozelek displayed none of his oft-reported prickly persona. Following the mandatory walking-off-stage-coming-back-on, Kozelak closed alone on his acoustic eight string with the pugilistic themed Glenn Tipton, Three Legged Cat  and a pristine Lost Verses. It is hardly music to paint the town red to (or the house for that matter), but those that drank deep from what Kozelek put on the table went into the winter's night savoring an evening of beautifully performed solemn songs that, like a good glass of red, warmed the chest and left a long, satisfying aftertaste.
by James Baker 
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