Recap A.A. Bondy at Club Garibaldi

It wasn’t anything that caused the Tuesday night crowd at Club Garibaldi to do a double take, but there was a moment during A.A. Bondy's quietly captivating set that suggested the indie-folk troubadour is capable of moving beyond well-kept-secret status fairly soon. Midway through the show, an unassuming couple sitting in the back stood up, clutched hands, and wove its way to the left side of the floor for a slow dance to “Lover’s Waltz,” a standout track from 2007’s stunning American Hearts. It was an impromptu moment that matched the mood of the evening—intimate, ethereal, even slightly romantic—the latter somewhat odd for an Alabama-bred, twentysomething folk singer who on his first albums has mined disquieting themes of death, religion, and redemption with equal intensity.

Yet Bondy does it with an undeniable sweetness that almost makes it easy to forget the dark, lonely road he’s been prone to travel. Bondy’s greatest strength has been allowing enough sentimentality to seep through so that a hauntingly depressing slate of songs doesn’t become too one-dimensional. Live, it’s the same drill: He knows when to keep it simple and understated, like on the set opener “Mightiest Of Guns” or “I Can See The Pines Are Dancing”—both off of this year's When The Devil's Loose—and when to throw mid-song curveballs that can transform the otherwise plaintive “A Slow Parade” from a whisper to a scream.

It’s the yin and yang effect that comes with Bondy’s grungier roots with the ’90s alt-rock Verbena. The playful balance and bite was given extra weight thanks to drummer (and Eau Claire native) Ben Lester and Mystic Valley Band bassist Macey Taylor. Alone on stage for brittle versions of “Rapture (Sweet Rapture)” and “Black Rain, Black Rain,” Bondy let the naked beauty of his back catalog soothe the audience into submission like a dog all too content to have its belly gently rubbed. Yet for all of Bondy’s measured mastery, with a full band (and nifty harmonica neck-rack) in tow, he knew to shake the crowd from its satisfactory slumber by employing a mountain-music stomp on “Killed Myself When I Was Young” and a swampy CCR-soaked drone for “When The Devil’s Loose.”

Three nights after finishing a supporting leg with fellow death-minded revivalist Elvis Perkins in Chicago, Bondy’s bulked-up set had him more in command of his song choices. A pensive cover of Hank Williams’ classic “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” kicked off an inspired encore before Bondy called it a night with a sonic-rippled “Coal Hits The Fire” that seemed to mimic the murmur of Tuesday night’s swishing rainstorm. Yet whether it was a Southern splash of humility or the insecurity of an opener-turned-main event, Bondy also appeared surprised to be playing for a packed hall of devoted Milwaukee fans, saying at evening’s end, “I’d have done it for five of y’all, but I’m glad there ain’t only five of you.” Aw, shucks. There’s that underlying sweetness again.