February 25th, 2019

It’s been eight years – almost to the day – since I first heard the angelic tones of one Mr. James Blake.  I remember it well: it was a crisp winter’s morning; I was the last awake of the three of us (my father, my sister and myself) in greeting the sunlight at Yosemite National Park.  While my family braved the cold, breathing the fresh alpine air and clutching their hotel room coffee mugs with shaking hands, I lazily uncurled on my cot on the floor by the fireside and began my morning ritual, making the rounds at my digital newsstand to see what was happening in the musical world that day.  I came upon a curious looking album cover – washed out blue background with a blurred profile of a man caught in a lysergic, reflected photograph – sort of like a human Rorschach blot – and a simple two-syllable name floating alongside it: JAMES BLAKE.  Something about this image must have captivated me immediately, which is not an easy task to accomplish, for anyone, seeing as I have the attention span of a spoonful of oatmeal and am in no way a morning person. I decided to open the review – which raved about the mysterious singer’s eponymous debut – and after I finished reading it, I clicked on the video link for a song called “The Wilhelm Scream.”  It was haunting, it was jarring, it was gorgeously twisted and unique.  The album ended up on my iPod within an hour, and as I traipsed with my sister and father through the mud and rocks and melting snow of the famous park, Blake’s dulcet vibrato inundated and soothed my welcoming eardrums.

Fast forward five months, and I am seeing Blake for the first time in a small forest grove in the heart of Chicago.  It is the Pitchfork Music Festival, and Blake is making his first victory lap in support of the album that started it all.  The entire audience is rapt by Blake’s singular, mesmerizing talent.  He skillfully bounces from computerized beats and melodies to an expertly played analog piano.  This would be the first of almost a dozen times I will see Blake in my life thus far.  Whether he’s commanding a festival stage at sunset on Treasure Island in San Francisco, or he’s playing to a sold-out house at Oakland’s Fox Theater, or if he’s offering heavenly sanctuary to a bunch of wayward, psilocybin-infected American youths trying to escape the demonic clutches of sunn o))) at the Primavera Festival in Barcelona, Blake has always been a central figure of my contemporary taste in music.   Now, directly on the heels of his semi-surprise release of his excellent and uncharacteristically optimistic fourth LP Assume Form, he has returned to our nation’s soil to cast his spell all over again.  I was lucky enough to catch him at his second US date of the tour, at Atlanta’s famed Tabernacle – a venue I have always wanted to experience, but never had the occasion to.  Long story short, I think I picked a good time to go.

THE VENUE: For those unfamiliar with the Tabernacle (or Atlanta in general), here’s the skinny: Basically, it’s a baller ass venue in an old church.  The church was built in the early 1900s to house the congregation of the Third Baptist Tabernacle, which was already starting to push up against the capacity of its then-present home.  It served as the congregation’s home base for almost a century, peaking in the post-Depression era through World War II, but started to dwindle during the McCarthy era and as tensions grew during the Civil Rights Movement (white flight was especially problematic).  In the 1980s the congregation had but only a few remaining devotees left compared to what it used to house, and the church became too difficult and arduous to maintain with such a small patronage.  So, the church was more or less abandoned and eventually sold in the 1990s, to a developer interested in the general area of the building for what would become the center of the XXVI Summer Olympics.  Though it almost didn’t make it – two proposals for the building were turned down, and it wasn’t until Lance Harding and House of Blues came into the picture that an agreement was reached.  The building was hastily renovated in the six weeks before the Olympics began, yet they pulled it off.  Throughout the games the stage of the House of Blues (as it was then called) saw the likes of The Blues Brothers, Bob Dylan, James Brown, Celia Cruz, and Johnny Cash.  After the Olympics it was clear that the success of the House of Blues was something that could continue, so it was kept open as such until its lease expired, when it was then bought and run independently as the Tabernacle for a couple of years before ultimately being sold to what is now Live Nation (who still operates the venue).

From the outside the Tabernacle doesn’t look like much, especially if just coming from across the street at one of the notably overpriced parking lots (because you are too close/aren’t looking up) and/or if it is dark out (because you can’t really see the whole façade).  Plus, it is almost dwarfed by the impossible-to-miss Skyview Atlanta, a 200-ft neon colossus of a Ferris Wheel that is situated right next door to the venue at the edge of Centennial Olympic Park.  The lines moved quickly and efficiently getting in (we had accelerated VIP entry and didn’t even utilize it as there was no need…and we didn’t see it at first lol).  As soon as you step inside the Tabernacle, it’s like you’re in a whole other dimension.  The main foyer expands dramatically and immediately, two large stairwells erupting on both sides, and a gaping maw of a portal straight ahead that leads down into the belly of the venue.  Through there and down the stairs, you’ll find a slightly oversized merch table set up and behind the large lounge space filled with old funky furniture, flanked by bars and eateries offering patrons a variety of libations and quick eats.  The spacious restrooms are modern and clean and can house a whole slew of concertgoers at once.  The men’s room was practically empty any time I went in there, save for a few random dudes holding their phones and checking Facebook while they were at the urinal and the occasional twentysomething sneaking into the stalls to do a not-so-subtle bump of blow or six.

The foyer’s stairs on either side actually lead to the main floor (yeah, its upstairs, weird I know), and continue up to the 2nd, 3rd and 4th tiers of the back balcony.  The third floor is reserved for those savvy few who dropped the extra $25 for access to ‘The Room’ – an exclusive upgrade that gives ticketholders access to a private bar and lounge (with lots of comfy chairs and couches), a free appetizer buffet, and – here’s the kicker – access to a private roof deck that looks out over Luckie Street, the Ferris wheel, the park, and a good chunk of Atlanta’s downtown skyline.  You can also catch a glimpse of the Tabernacle’s impressive stained-glass windows, all of which would rattle precariously with each thundering boom of bass emanating from the stage.

Although the sightlines in the theatre are far from perfect (and it is a little cramped), the aisles being clear was a plus and the sound system was epic.  I didn’t see any water coolers or fountains around but honestly, I wasn’t looking – I was too distracted by all the bizarre psychedelic/carnival-like décor, which was fascinating.  Plus, the temperature was perfect, so I never felt I had to dramatically re-hydrate.  There are, however, eighteen bars at the Tabernacle (according to one very helpful bartender in the lobby; the other was rather unenthused with my inquiry so I didn’t press it), so being thirsty is never a problem without a close-by solution.  Already this was becoming one of my favorite venues, and I haven’t even gotten to the actual show yet.

THE SHOW:

The highs:

• The acoustics: First and foremost, the sound system at the Tabernacle is incredible. In 2013 it was given a complete overhaul as the JBL VTX system was implemented in favor of improving the quality which had been in place since the venue’s initial opening in 1996. Sound technology improves by vast amounts in a relatively short amount of time (except for vinyl, they got that right the first time), so bringing in a new system was one of the smartest things that they could’ve done.  In addition, the building itself is designed for sound to travel and be heard by everyone inside; keep in mind that this used to be a church – a church built before the time of microphones and PAs – so the people sitting all the way in the back of the balcony had to hear a preacher speak and a choir sing, etc., without the aid of digital amplification.  So, pair the intrinsic acoustic nature of the building with an excellent sound system, AND Blake’s gorgeous vocals and booming arrangements on top of it all…what your left with is a heavenly sonic experience.

• The crowd: Nothing pumps up a performer more than hearing an enthusiastic audience. One can usually gauge how an evening is going to play out within the first five to ten minutes and judging by the shrieks of excitement as the house lights switched off, it was going to be a good night for Mr. Blake.  As soon as the theater went black, the cries were almost deafening.  He was, to be fair, a little fashionable in his tardiness, but it’s not like we were waiting for hours (I was grateful, seeing as I arrived later than anticipated and was overjoyed upon learning that he had not yet started).  That energy carried on throughout the next ninety minutes, Blake enjoying a bit of banter here and there between songs (and their thunderous reception that followed), his quirky sense of humor and pointedly British vernacular tickling the already lofty butterflies occupying our collective tummy as he chuckled after every single I LOVE YOU!!!! that would blast out of the crowd every few minutes.  After “Retrograde” – Blake’s gorgeous and triumphant single from his 2013 sophomore album Overgrown – was met with unparalleled exhilaration, from the tell-tale hums at the beginning bringing fans at the bar or in the bathroom crashing back into the venue with hyperventilated glee, to the song’s climax which had everybody on the balcony on their feet, arms outstretched, either singing along clumsily or trying to soak in every bit of light Blake seemed to protrude.  After the song ended, the crowd went absolutely BERSERK.  For like a full minute.  It was deafening, and glorious.

• The set: Blake is on tour behind his semi-surprise fourth album Assume Form as we speak, so as expected much of the setlist consisted of his new songs. And sometimes hearing a bunch of new material can be tiring, especially if you aren’t familiar with the artist.  But luckily Blake’s new material is so refreshing (some of it downright cheery) that it was no chore at all, that and his voice is so beautiful it wouldn’t matter; he could sing “Mambo No. 5” and we’d be swooning in the wings.  He balanced his new stuff with a wonderful selection of old favorites, from his gorgeous cover of Feist’s “Limit to Your Love” to Overgrown tracks like “Life Round Here” and “Voyeur” (which had an insane extended outro), to songs from his excellent third album The Colour in Anything, including “Timeless,” “Modern Soul,” and my personal favorite “Love Me In Whatever Way.”  His new stuff was definitely a highlight though, as I finally got to hear a live version of the delicately heart wrenching “Don’t Miss It,” plus a version of “Are You In Love?” with only a single guitar backing Blake’s heavenly voice (it was a very coffeehouse moment, snap snap).  He closed the night off with his cover of Joni Mitchell’s “A Case of You” after his equipment would not cooperate during the planned “Lullaby for My Insomniac,” which just made the whole night complete.

The lows:

• Can’t think of a single one. Well, there was this pole that was in my way for like five minutes.  But that’s it.

THE FINAL WORD:

            James Blake has found his footing.  His music keeps getting better and better, his technique is improving, his live performances are astounding.  I think back to when I saw him for the first time eight years ago, and I almost feel like a proud parent, sniffling in admiration.  He has harnessed the power to command an audience full of screaming fans, to make them laugh and make them cry, and still has the ability to make all of us go WOW, that’s incredible.  Because he is incredible.  The Tabernacle has served him and all of us well and will hopefully continue to do so in the coming years.  It is an excellent place to see live music, and I could not have asked for a better experience.