Recap Nathaniel Rateliff at Club Garibaldi

Somehow amid the chaos caused by torrents of Biblical-style rain that pounded Milwaukee Thursday night, Denver-based folkie Nathaniel Rateliff strapped on a guitar and played for a small but attentive crowd at Club Garibaldi. It ended up being a sea of calm at the center of a never-ending storm: Those of us lucky enough to not fall into mammoth sinkholes on the way to the show were rewarded with a powerful, and surprisingly tranquil, performance.

While it would have been nice for more people to turn out, the sparse crowd and rain-speckled windows created an appropriately lonely and warmly intimate atmosphere for Rateliff’s evocative songs. As bassist Julie Davis remarked, it felt more like a house show than a club gig. The subtle majesty of “Oil And Lavender” was like a quiet conversation sprinkled with piano and soft drums, while “Whimper And Wail” became all the more momentous when performed with all the intensity and exuberance you might expect at a much larger and fuller venue.

The band ended the night with two songs that are equally powerful in completely different ways—so much so that at one point Rateliff expressed his concern over which one to play before the other. Beginning with the epic “Pounds And Pounds,” composed of clattering acoustic strumming and swirling electric guitar lines, Rateliff and his band hit with massive force, creating an emotionally involving world of heartache and lamentation. Alternately, the foot-stomping “Shroud” played like a life-affirming call to arms, ending the night on a high note.

Singer-songwriter JBM opened with a short set of dreamy folk laced with echo-y vocals and an impressive range of instrumentation for a solo performer. Watching JBM switch several times between instruments—including a simple drum set, electric and acoustic guitars, and harmonica—was like witnessing a mad scientist constructing something mysterious and diabolical. It was fitting on such a wet and foreboding night, when the city seemed to be drowning. But that ominous, looming sense of danger outside made Club Garibaldi seem like its own little enclave, filled with tender songs that almost made the weather seem like a blessing.