Hello, world of The Singing Lamb! I’m visiting you today at the request of my friend Melody, one of the wonderful maintainers of Toronto’s best music blog (…that would be this one). I’ve cultivated my own meager blogging roots over at Counting Stars on the Ceiling, but in comparison to my two - literally two, as Blogger’s dashboard smugly reminds me each time I log in – subscribers, The Lamb feels like the big time. It’s a pleasure to be writing for you, especially because I’m here on an express mission to talk about one of my most personally beloved musicians. So, let’s get down to business.

You may already know and love this woman. I hope you do, for your sake as well as mine, because it means the following exercise isn’t a waste. Here are some hints as to our personne du jour: She has a voice so beautiful it could make angels weep. Her penchant for words and imagery, especially when it comes to discussing nature, would render Keats and Frost insecure. She has a wonderfully irreverent sense of humor and isn’t afraid to make fun of herself. She’s an honorary Canadian with a mane – about which she doesn’t seem at all vain (more on this later) – as red as the Canadian flag.

If you guessed the one and only Neko Case, then you are, of course, correct. The woman has been touring almost non-stop since the March release of her fifth studio album, Middle Cyclone, which surprised more than a few people when it debuted at #3 on the Billboard 200. She’s visited your own lovely city multiple times, most recently at the historic Massey Hall. (Somehow, these shows escaped review here on The Lamb. But I’m not here to judge…much.) This past Friday, July 24, I was lucky enough to catch her for the fourth time in support of Middle Cyclone at the NorVA, a moderately-sized club located some 1,100km outside Toronto in Norfolk, VA. I’m not all that fond of the NorVA. At nearly 3 hours away, excluding traffic, and with a stage so high as to threaten neck pains for those in the front, it’s a venue I tend to avoid. (The cold feelings can also be attributed, in part, to The Decemberists, but that’s a story for a different day.) Fortunately, the effort seemed justified in the end, as I left even more convinced of the opinion I had formed over past encounters with Ms. Case – whether you’re a fan or seeking out something new, a live performance is the best way to hear Neko. Without the safety net of technological manipulation and second-takes, she delivered a near-flawless vocal performance with plenty of emotion, humility and humor.

The evening began with a short set from occasional tourmate Imaad Wasif. I actually have more memories of his physical appearance – think a mass of black curls attached to the end of a desaturated string bean – and incomprehensible comments than his monotonous dirges. In his defense, though, anything short of a four-alarm blaze would have gone unnoticed in my cloud of anticipation for what was to come. Accordingly, I suggest you click your way over to his homepage and judge for yourself.

It was around 10:15pm when the overhead lights dimmed and the sound of frogs began to play against a backdrop of fireflies, trees and owls crowned in gold. Neko Case, an explosion of unkempt red hair, appeared onstage alongside bandmates Kelly Hogan (vocals), Jon Rauhouse (steel, banjo), Paul Rigby (guitar), Tom V. Ray (bass) and Barry Mirochnik (drums). The show opened with deep cut “Things That Scare Me” from the album Blacklisted, which currently serves as the midway-marker of Neko’s solo career (excluding live releases). A compromise between the campy twang of her early albums and the more refined nature of her recent work, the song presented an opportunity for Neko to showcase the sheer vocal power that has become a hallmark of her sound. The audience was quick to make requests for other songs from the back catalogue, but Middle Cyclone understandably emerged as the focus of the evening. The twelve songs chosen from the album-all but “The Next Time You Say Forever” and “Never Turn Your Back On Mother Earth”-comprised over half of the total 21 songs played. Fox Confessor Brings the Flood favorites “Hold On, Hold On” (co-written by The Sadies) and “Maybe Sparrow” made an appearance, as well as songs from the live album The Tigers Have Spoken, including a rousing rendition of The Shangri-Las’ “Train from Kansas City” to end the show.

Despite their infrequency, or perhaps because of it, the truly “deep” cuts emerged as highlights of the evening. In addition to “Things That Scare Me,” the band pulled out “Deep Red Bells” and, my personal favorite, “I Wish I Was the Moon.” The duo was packaged as a one-two deep-cut punch in the middle of the main set. A problem with microphone shock interrupted “Deep Red Bells,” but after a quick mic switch between Neko and Kelly (and the eventual addition of a foam mic cover), the song and the show progressed without a hitch. “I Wish I Was the Moon” undoubtedly elicited many a chill, and likely many a tear, from the audience. One woman in the front row stood, enraptured-eyes closed, mouth agape, emotive expression that I probably would have interpreted as pain, if I hadn’t known any better-as Neko cried, “I’m so tired, I’m so tired.” For the most part, both new and old songs exceeded the standard established by their recorded counterparts. Credit for this accomplishment should be attributed in no small part to the musicians who surrounded Neko on stage. Though I am unqualified to evaluate any of their technical performances, even as a complete stranger to their instruments, it was clear that each member played an integral role in successfully recreating the energy of Neko’s recordings.

While on the topic of the band, I want to take two seconds to discuss Kelly Hogan. It’s almost unfair to refer to Kelly as a “backup singer,” as her striking voice managed to steal just enough of the spotlight away from Neko to reflect in her crystalline eyes. (Yes, crystalline eyes. I know it sounds sappy, but you have to watch this woman live. When singing, she looks like she’s dreaming of romance and faraway places, or maybe just a good night’s sleep in her own bed.) The clarity of her voice was the perfect complement to Neko’s own, contrasting it in every possible sense, excluding the ability to please anything with ears.

And back on track. One of the most striking qualities I’ve come to recognize in Neko Case is her incredible humility. She may not be living a life of fame and fortune, but she is an undeniable critical success; even those who dislike her music seem to respect her talents. Despite great approval, Neko seems disinterested in even the possibility of widespread recognition or a grandiose lifestyle-she lives on a farm in Vermont, keeps company with her dogs and dedicates her energy to animal advocacy (links below). She gets excited by the presence of people like U.S. Secretary of Education Arne Duncan and is known for handling her own equipment. Her humility, and the humility of her band, makes for an intimate live experience that is marked by abundant conversation and banter. Almost immediately upon entering the stage, Kelly expressed excitement about being back in the South and reciprocated our “bosomy hospitality” by inviting everyone to be honorary Hogans. When an enthusiastic fan yelled, “I want to have your babies!,” Neko good-naturedly replied, “That is genetically impossible.” (I’m guessing option #2 was, “Be more creative with your hyperbole next time.”) From there on, the exchanges became regular fixtures between songs. Topics included film-Neko detested having “big blue junk” in her face throughout Watchmen, but is a loyal fan of Transformers – and the backstage hot tub in which Kelly may or may not have taken a soak. (“There’s a hot tub, but Brett Michaels might have sat in it…Okay, I sat in it; I’m a hobo.” Draw your own conclusions.) My personal favorite non-musical moment occurred when someone asked, “Where’s the box?!,” after Kelly gently rebuffed multiple requests by placing them in her imaginary suggestion box. Kelly remained silent, choosing only to respond with a sly smirk. Thoughsome people find such constant repartee distracting, I considered it an asset to the overall experience. Some of these musicians have been collaborating for upwards of a decade and, far from domestic disputes or band-breaking love triangles, they still take pleasure in working together. I always enjoy shows more when it’s clear the band is having fun.

I could go on (and on) about Neko Case. It’s probably best I cut myself off here, before I find some other little thing, like the shade of Kelly’s teeth or the style of Neko’s shoes-embellished black flip-flops (I swear I don’t actually know the shade of Kelly’s teeth)-to fawn over. All in all, Friday’s show was 90 minutes of impeccably performed music, plus a lot of personality to fill the quieter moments. I am enthusiastically encouraging every one of you to see Neko Case the next time she passes through your area. (I’m looking at you, Lamb writers.) She doesn’t have a light show, costumes or choreographed dancing, but she does have a winning sense of humor, a talented (and equally witty) band and that voice, all of which guarantee it will be time well spent.

Please excuse my clear assumption that every Singing Lamb reader is Canadian and any other gross generalizations I may have made. I’m American; it’s what I do. And, as promised, the websites of a couple organizations Neko supports, for your perusing pleasure:
Best Friends Animal Society
Defenders of Wildlife