Charmed - katiebae's review of 2004 Myrtle Beach HOB Concert, July 5, 2004
The whole trip down the Carolina’s highways and byways was filled with Hanson stories, most of them going in one direction – from Laura to me. I’d teased her about how her Hanson fan experience was charmed because she’d encountered them personally more than once, evidence of which can be read at bab.org. I felt privileged to finally be going to a Hanson trip with Miss Laura and I could not deny that a small little hope did linger that some of that charmed magical Hanson luck would touch this trip.
I didn’t expect it, of course and God knows that I didn’t dare wish for it, but it happened.
Our timing was more than perfect. There were a gaggle of five girls waiting there - two groups. Laura, the Hanson Mother Hen that she is, brought everyone together. “We’ll have a better chance that way.” Not ten minutes after we’d arrived, we watched Zac and Isaac exit the buses and head inside. And that was the kicker. We just watched. No one said a word. Not the girls who had been sitting there for hours in the Carolina heat. Not Laura, who had been so charmed with her Hanson encounters, but had yet to obtain photographic evidence. Not me, who is supposed to have enough balls for everyone. I think (know) it was the shock of seeing them of not on stage, where the connection between crowd and band is intense, yet detached. They were walking by in Real Technicolor Hanson.
Then Isaac came out again, jogging over and holding a pick in his mouth. He was back on the bus in a heartbeat and as we waited for his reappearance, we discussed:
Laura: That’s the thing about Hanson. You have to actually
make them act. Call them over.
Other Random Band-Aid: Eck. I don’t know if I can do it.
Kate: I’ll do it.
Laura: Kate will do it. She’ll do it for the rest of us.
So that’s it. I’d decided right there that it was now or never. I’ve never been one to bow out of a challenge. Isaac came out, looking harried and a little bitchy. I called, waved him over. Laura said, “Come on! We just want to say hi. Nothing scary.” He came over and shook her hand. I dared to ask, “Can we get a picture?” There was that moment when I thought he would say “No.” I could hear the question turning over in his head – and the realization that he should do this. Because we are his fans, after all. “Sure. Why not?”
Later, I realized just how fleeting the moment was. With the blood pounding in my ears and my hands shaking and the grin threatening to break my face, I had ceased being the calm, intuitive, observant writer. I’d missed the details. Casey asked me later what he smelled like. I couldn’t tell her. I could barely remember that his hand was on my bare shoulder and how I was tucked right into the height of him and how his brown hipster jacket felt soft. How tragic. I’d spent years contemplating, discussing and surmising these details. Here I was faced with the REAL evidence and I failed to collect it all.
After he walked away, I had to leave the scene. As in it was imperative that I leave the scene. Laura and I hurried off to the other end of the parking lot and I lost it. I busted out into a fit of giggles, releasing the adrenaline that I’d kept in check in Isaac’s presence. Laura laughed at me – all in good sentiment, of course. Much to my chagrin, Isaac Hanson was/is capable to reducing me to a ball of teeny giggles. I’m turning 27 next week, folks. Yeah.
We hurried into the venue and scored a good position in the balcony. Ingram Hill was wonderful. Southern bluesy rock, straight from the country rock roots of Memphis, Tennessee. We actually encountered a few folks who came to see them. We liked.
And it was time. After a few cocktails and cigarettes and nervous/excited banter (us, not them), they started. Hanson opened with a mystery – a song that we couldn’t identify, something dark, something devoid of the one thing we associate with a Hanson song – sunshiny goodness. The song started with a thumping drumbeat, like a tribal chant. The lilt and dip of Taylor’s voice sang of liquid melancholy dreams, as if he was the Maynard Keenan incarnate. In one word – spooky. We loved it.
[PS – We found out later that the song was a cover after
all – Optimistic by Radiohead.
So Taylor wasn’t calling on Maynard’s incarnation, but on Thom York’s.]
Dancing In The Wind. My new rockingest favorite on Underneath. They played it with gusto, folks. This is real Rock & Roll.
There is something unnatural about Taylor Hanson playing guitar. We are somewhat comfortable with it now – a result of the dozens of talk shows, radio/TV appearances touting Penny and Me. We’d slowly but surely adapted to the sight of him sitting with his brothers, his fat hands pounding on the strings. We always wondered how such an impossibly graceful sound could come out of awkward strumming. Wonder boy made it work.
But this was so much more. Taylor was standing - the full height and breadth of him suddenly consuming the front of the stage. And then there was THE moment of the entire rocking two hours. Isaac approached him, face contorted ala Jonny, faux hawk whipping back and forth. They danced pretty face to pretty face, phallic Fender to phallic Fender. Have you ever heard two women spontaneously combust? We did.
The set list overall was really balanced between all three albums. A few great oldies – A Minute Without You, Where’s the Love (More like Where’s The Lyrics since Taylor randomly stopped singing in the middle of the song) and a surprising new version of Look At You. From This Time Around, they played Wish That I Was There, a bluesy version of You Never Know. Then there was the one-two Isaac punch – Love Song and Hand In Hand. Interesting to hear them back to back – one song so sweet and sappy it gives you a toothache and the other so biting in its bitter simpering rage.
From the new album – Dancing In The Wind, Deeper (with Taylor singing the Michelle Branch part), Underneath, Strong Enough To Break, and of course, Penny and Me. The highlight being the rousing finale Lost Without Each Other, being the best of the bunch. Taylor kicked his piano stool away and invoked the spirit of Jerry Lee Lewis. Amazing.
Their in-between banter was hilarious. Some samples:
Ike: Sorry, guys. It’s hot in here. I’m going to throw some sweat on you.
Taylor: That’s disgusting.
Taylor: (After instructing the audience on just the right rhythm in which to wave their hands) Wow. You guys are good. You must have gone to audience participation school.
Overall, it was great to hear the vast improvement in their musicianship. Zac’s drumming especially. He was a phenom when was six, and he’s still growing and learning. I was most surprised by his blooming stage presence. Zac was the only one who did a solo. The roadie handed him an acoustic, and we shrieked in anticipation of hearing Misery. Alas, the guitar was out of tune. Instead of stalling, Zac calmly handed the guitar back to the roadie and headed straight for the piano. After a little warm up, he went into the paradoxically cute and haunting Tight Rope. Zac’s voice was great that night – all earnest and pretty. Love him.
So there it is. There was no encore that night. Unfortunately and much to our (and Hanson’s) disappointment, the venue imposed a curfew on them. Despite rushing through Lost Without Each Other, it was still the rockingest song of the night. And the pulsing energy of our strange night subsided quickly but appropriately – with an A Cappella verse of Weird.