Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an affinity for pirates. I may look like I work for an insurance company, but deep down I yearn to live on the open sea, drink grog all day, and make ethically questionable decisions. Maybe that is why I felt like I connected with Breaksea Caravel so strongly – to listen to them in the cramped confines of the 331 Club on Wednesday night was akin to being in the hold of some seafaring vessel, their tunes listing and swaying like the breaking of the waves. Utilizing the time honored instruments of the sea-shanty tradition – the fiddle, the accordion and the shaggy beard amongst others, Breaksea create a mood unlike anything I have experienced in the local scene thus far.
If Breaksea were indeed a pirate crew then lead singer Nikolas Winter would definitely have been its captain. The dreadlocked bear of a man was the center of attention throughout, at times waving his trombone about like a cutlass, or stretching the squeezebox to its limits. His menacing growl conveys both adventure and world-weariness at the same time, as only a true wanderlust can. Equally valuable to the sound are the other six members of the band, particularly Noah Schneider on the clarinet and Christa Rubsam on a haunting violin.
Watching Rubsam play reminded me of an interesting phenomenon I have noticed lately – half the local bands I have seen lately seem to always have a female on the violin and a man on the drums. Are there any bands out there where the roles are reversed? Does Minneapolis have a Tom Hagerman and Meg White combo out there somewhere?
Speaking of Hagerman, former DeVotchka member Paul Fonfara’s band Painted Saints was the headliner of the night. Though I have seen them perform a number of times, I was particularly impressed on Wednesday. Having previously only admired their music from afar, I had never really noticed what skilled musicians the band has. Fonfara, particularly, dominates the guitar and clarinet and isn’t bad on the accordion either.
Though the Saints tread the same Eastern European tracks as bands like DeVotchka and Beirut, they also bring a certain melancholy to the music that I think sets them apart – perhaps less gypsy influence and more wandering cowboy. It’s a unique sound that, lately, I can’t seem to get enough of.
It was a highlight to finally hear A Fat Kid Rides His Bike through the Snow live after listening to it many times at home, though it sounded as if the whistling parts gave Fonfara a little trouble. The best song of the evening was perhaps Kerosene, a lengthy Klezmer triumph that was part Bat Mitzvah and part Spaghetti Western.
As I left the 331 late in the chilly night I felt very lucky. Not only do I feel like I got the chance to see a couple of terrific local bands on the same stage (and for free no less), it was the kind of music that personally, really touches a deep place in my soul. Though I may never become a pirate, gypsy or even a respectable scoundrel, at least I can listen to bands like this play and imagine for awhile that I am free from the Midwest, free from concern and most importantly, free from the boredom of conventional music.
