Bonnie Prince Billy at Turner Hall
The artist otherwise known as Will Oldham delivers a warm, beautiful performance
CJ Foeckler
Much has been made about the countrified sounds of Will Oldham’s latest Bonnie Prince Billy album, Beware, yet Oldham’s set for a packed Turner Hall Ballroom Wednesday night made it clear that he's interested in exploring—and tweaking—all forms of American music.
There's something both Gothic and vaudevillian about Oldham. You get the feeling he's playing a character, a sort of soft-spoken carnival barker. (He even took the time to tell an off-color joke about his roadie’s manhood.) Yet at the core of Oldham’s craft is a deep respect and admiration for those that came before him. Such a reverent appreciation of history allowed for a strong feeling of warmth to emanate from Oldham, a feeling that even the most casual observer had to notice Wednesday night.
Backed by a crack touring band—including guitarist Emmett Kelly, bassist Josh Abrams, and drummer Jim White—Oldham ran through material from almost all of his Bonnie Prince Billy albums, including standouts like set-starter “Sheep” (from 2001’s Ease Down The Road), “Love Comes To Me” (from 2006’s The Letting Go), and “A Minor Place” (from his 1999 breakthrough record I See A Darkness). While Oldham often trades in melancholy and despair, his performance illustrated how his best material also plays on themes of gratitude, humility, and generosity. Much of his catalog addresses some sort of longing, but Oldham’s expression of such emotions is never inarticulate. Oldham seems thankful to have the ability to articulate his desires and feelings, which makes his songs all the more beautiful and real.
Such beauty was on full display in “Ain’t You Wealthy, Ain’t You Wise?” from 2003’s Master And Everyone. Here violinist Cheyenne Mize (a vision in a long, flowing white dress) provided soaring harmonies that perfectly complemented Oldham’s gruff vocals. Playing Emmylou Harris to Oldham’s Gram Parsons, Mize seemed to represent all that Oldham hoped to ever attain. And when Oldham sang the final verse—“There’s no pain to lament / And no dream undreamt / There’s no pain to lament / And no dream undreamt”—you couldn't help but be moved by Oldham’s optimism.