Gregory Alan Isakov @ Palace Theatre | 2-3-23
Review & Photos by Ben McKone
It may have been one of the coldest nights of the year, but the Twin Cities gave a singularly warm welcome to Gregory Alan Isakov. The line outside the doors stretched nearly around the block despite the subzero temperatures. The anticipation in the sold-out Palace Theatre had grown to such a pitch that a technician appearing on the stage for a last-minute instrument adjustment was given a cheer of his own. The set design was simple, with the curious addition of a glowing orange globe in center stage. Overhead lights of green, red and purple often cast the musicians and instruments in deep shadow, creating an interplay of shadows and complimentary colors. Antique folk music played through the sound system, bringing the audience into an appropriate state of mind.
Once Isakov and his band did take the stage, the ovation quickly melted into hushed silence as the group started in on the gentle and melancholy opener ‘San Luis’. “I’m a ghost of you, you’re a ghost of me,” Isakov sang, setting the mood for an evening of tracks from across Isakov’s discography, but mainly coming from his most recent album ‘Evening Machines’. The songs ranged from intimate and quiet (“If I Go, I’m Goin’”, “Big Black Car”) to bombastic (“Liars”, “Caves”), but all shared a sense of catharsis contrasted with a deep longing and underlying sadness. Isakov’s embrace of vintage aesthetics, evident on his album covers, furthers this feeling of nostalgia for a time lost in the distant past. Of particular note is his unique use of two microphones - one providing a typical clear amplification, the other giving his voice the raspy sound of a vintage radio broadcast.
From the start, Isakov and his troupe held the audience in their thrall. Apart from the thunderous applause between songs, the crowd was so invested in the performance that it was easy to forget just how many people were there. The venue felt more like a rustic cabin or bunkhouse warmed by firelight than a sold-out concert venue.
Attired in denim, open-collar shirt, and his signature wide-brimmed hat, Isakov cuts a decidedly unpretentious figure befitting his other career as a horticulturalist. While countless folk singers have adopted the denim-and-flannel woodsman look since the 2010s, Isakov lives it. He seems somewhat like a troubadour from a previous age, a performer marked not by spectacle but by the connection between his voice and his guitar; simply a man playing his music. At no point did Isakov or any of the band feel like they were putting on an act - they were simply here to share their songs with us.
While his guitar playing is excellent, Isakov’s voice is his most impressive asset. Smooth and languid, his singing is never forced. Rather it seems to simply flow out of him, a natural expression of the man himself. On tracks like “The Stable Song” his gentle tones seem to interplay with the notes of the guitar, mixing among them but never getting lost, while more expansive tracks like “Liars” show he is more than capable of soaring above loud, epic instrumentals.
All of Isakov’s backing musicians are talented, but particular mention must go to the appropriately-named violinist Jeb Bows. Throughout the night his clean, singing tones added an incredible amount of soul to the music. Multi-instrumentalists Steve Varney and Danny Black added an appropriate country twang with banjo and lap steel guitar, and bassist John Paul Grigsby effortlessly switched between an electric and upright bass so quickly it sometimes seemed like a magic trick. All contributed backing vocals, blending together in a soft, ethereal harmony.
Banter between the musicians was minimal, but their accord was apparent through their unspoken musical bond. All five men played with the practiced comfort of a band of friends, never losing the concert’s intimate and human vibe. By the time of the sing-along closer Saint Valentine, there seemed to be no wall between those on stage and those in the audience; all were united in the feeling of the night.
In the depths of a Minnesota winter, Gregory Alan Isakov invited us to sit by his fireside and reminisce about distant times, lost loves, and the beauty and poetry hidden in everyday life. It was one of the most intimate concert experiences I have had the pleasure of experiencing recently, and I cannot wait to see it again when he returns.
