For a venue as storied as Massey Hall, it has a remarkable shortage of good seats. My last three outings to the beautiful and recently renovated theatre have been marred by impaired sightlines and a lack of leg room. MJ Lenderman and Waxahatchee’s show on Saturday was no different, being that I watched the performers through the gaps of a railing.

I arrived around half an hour after doors opened and found myself in a remarkably empty hall. Unfortunately, it seemed many people had no intention of seeing the opener. There is no concert-going habit I detest more than only coming for the main actWhy someone would buy a concert ticket and then willingly miss out on a significant part of the experience is past me. 

Brennan Wedl opened the evening, playing a selection of unreleased material and recent singles. She would switch between acoustic and electric guitar, with the latter being the most electric guitar we would hear  tonight. Without the backing of a full band, Wedl’s country influence becomes all the more obvious, and her voice begs for comparisons to alternative country’s first lady, Lucinda Williams. Wedl’s confessional songwriting is more than enough to differentiate her from Williams, though, and she spent time between songs telling the crowd the stories behind the tracks. Detailing of a “love song about Nashville” led to cheers from exactly one person in the sold out hall. Wedl was good, but in my opinion, she would have been better served with a band. These songs, especially the ones she decided were best suited for electric guitar, deserved more power than one person alone can deliver. This isn’t her fault, and regardless, the quieter numbers like “Fake Cowboy” sounded great. The highlight for me (and many others, judging by the crowd’s response) was when Katie Crutchfield (Waxahatchee’s real name) made an appearance  for a duet on “Will You Still Want Me When The Crazy Comes Out?”

At 9:00pm, the lamps that covered the stage all turned on at once. These lamps and a static white light from above remained on the entire show. The stage design was simple–the lamps were interspersed with plants, an old television played static in the back, and a stuffed dog sat beside Lenderman’s chair. All of this lay on top of a collection of beautiful old rugs. Lenderman and Crutchfield entered the stage accompanied by band members Cole Berggren (Banjo and Keyboard) and Colin Croom (Pedal Steel, Lap Steel, and Telecaster), set to an ‘80s R.E.M. song that I couldn’t remember the name of. 

Without any fanfare, they immediately broke into “Manning Fireworks,” the title track from Lenderman’s last record. It was performed wonderfully, but it’s a stripped back song to begin with. The true magic of this acoustic setup did not reveal itself immediately. Crutchfield followed by taking lead on “Evil Spawn” from her latest record Tigers Blood. This established several patterns for the night: Lenderman and Crutchfield would take turns singing, and the focus would be on both artists’ new material. Tigers Blood and Manning Fireworks made up the bulk of the setlist, but Lenderman took it further by performing three unreleased songs. Two of these, “Fishing” and “Brawson’s,” made back to back appearances early in the set because they’re in the same key (“it’s easy to do that way,” Lenderman told the crowd). Out of the two, “Brawson’s” stood out as a highlight, with his trademark humour, “The bouncer was born to dance in the club but he is unable/He once had the chance but his pants fell down around his ankles/Now I’m not quite sure just what I’ve paid for.” I don’t know whether it was the quiet, formal setting, or simply the crowd being too respectful, but lines that should have spurred some sort of audience reaction did not. The line “Draining cum from hotel showers” in “Joker Lips” did not elicit a single chuckle. I found it a little disappointing, but it seems unwise to complain about concert crowds being too respectful lest the monkey paw curls. 

“Brawson’s” was followed by the wonderful twofer of Waxahatchee’s “Lilacs” and Lenderman’s “TLC Cage Match,” both of which were served well by their stripped-back arrangements. Just one song later, Lenderman drew the loudest crowd reaction of the night with his rendition of This is Lorelei’s “Dancing in the Club,” which he introduced as “a song by his friend Nate” to a muted reaction, before adding “he’s got a band called This is Lorelei,” to a slightly stronger reaction, finally commenting “this song’s called “Dancing in the Club,” which is when the crowd finally picked up on what he was telling them. During the subsequent performance of Waxahatchee’s “The Wolves,” I watched the man beside me: 

1. Take a photo of his beer
2. Open Instagram to post this photo on his stories
3. Spend approximately one minute coming up with a caption for the photo of his beer
4. Hit post and put his phone away
5. Take his phone out again a minute later to show his friend the photo of his beer

This sequence of events shocked me. Thankfully, I recovered in time to witness the majesty of “You Don’t Know The Shape I’m In,” which in this form far surpassed its recorded version. Crutchfield’s high harmonies sounded amazing, and Croom’s dobro playing was tasteful but dominant when it had to be, highlighted by his impersonation of the “Clarinet singing its lonesome duck walk.” Crutchfield delivered her chosen cover of the set just a few songs later, taking lead on Gillian Welch’s “Wrecking Ball.” Crutchfield, who has (in my opinion) the greatest and most unique voice of any country singer from her generation, sounded remarkably like Welch. She sang it beautifully, of course, though the line “I got tired and let my average slip” brought me back to the world of academia that I had come to Massey Hall to escape. 

They ended the set with their respective hits, first Crutchfield with “Right Back to It,” then Lenderman with “Wristwatch.” “Right Back to It” was played true to the record, while “Wristwatch” appeared in a much slower arrangement. It carried a melancholic weight that the original lacks, and ended with more beautiful dobro work from Croom. After the encore break, Crutchfield announced their intention to end with a short set of covers. First was Iris DeMent’s “My Life.” This was followed by Lucinda William’s “Abandoned,” which saw Brennan Wedl return to the stage. All three singers took verses, but Wedl stood out sheerly for her similarity to Williams. I mentioned it earlier, but it’s impossible to miss when she’s singing a song originally sung by Williams. They sound eerily alike. 

The penultimate song was The Jayhawk’s “All The Right Reasons.” While it’s not my favourite Jayhawks cut, I had missed seeing frontman Gary Louris a week prior because of an exam, and so I was happy to hear it regardless. The night concluded with Kathleen Edward’s “Six O’Clock News,” with Crutchfield and Wedl trading verses. The crowd seemed happy to hear it, and as usual, they sang it beautifully. Admittedly, with the lyrics describing a woman desperately trying to talk their lover down from an armed stand-off with the police, it seemed like a downer way to end the show. Even so, the crowd’s roar when the visibly pregnant Crutchfield sang “I’m gonna have your baby this coming June” was really touching.

The show’s over. I take a few minutes to sit and think before leaving, hoping most of the crowd would clear out by the time I get up. They did not. I watched the crew begin to deconstruct the set as the post-show playlist played another ‘80s R.E.M. song I couldn’t recall. I don’t like to leave immediately after a show. I sympathize with the fact that people want to get home, but I really don’t think everyone needs to rush to the exit. In the moments after it ended I thought about a few things. How the acoustic arrangements served to highlight the songwriting, and how some of these songs seemed better suited to that than others. Or how after a great show, I find that I tend to forget the minor inconveniences that might have bothered me in the moment. I weasel and weave my way through the sidewalk filled with people of all ages smoking cigarettes, before slipping into Queen Station.