Country intellect

Led by guitarist and singer Jay Farrar, a founding member of the revolutionary punk/bluegrass highbred band Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt took the stage at the Agora Theater last Saturday. But the show was a far cry from Farrar's revolutionary and energetic past, and though the stoic stage presence of Son Volt would leave many of their former punk fans cold, Son Volt put the emphasis back on entertaining their fans.

In many ways this was not a rock and roll show by today's mainstream standards. There were no bright lights, the band did not jump around and the statuesque nature of the performers was only matched by that of the crowd. Simply put, the music outmatched the band's showmanship. Playing a continuous set that included most of the music from their last two albums and a few covers, Son Volt started and did not stop.

From the first strains of "Caryatid Easy" to last drone of feedback, Son Volt was exceptionally tight. The playing of drummer Mike Heidorn, who was also a member of Uncle Tupelo, was as solid as it could possibly be. Guitarist Dave Boquist and bassist Jim Boquist, brothers whose studio credits make up a veritable who's who of the alternative-country scene, were flawless in almost every respect. They were technically astounding, performing with complete confidence. Farrar's vocals and guitar held everything that Uncle Tupelo and Son Volt fans could hope for. But these things alone do not make a great rock and roll show.

The problem was reflected in Son Volt's audience. The crowd at the Agora Saturday night could have been anywhere, at any show for any band. They were primarily upper middle Cherokee-driving yuppies with a few college kids thrown into the mix. But a band can't be responsible for its audience, right? Wrong. By charging almost $20 a ticket and playing clubs like the Agora that focus on ever-so-slightly-left of mainstream acts, Son Volt has ceased to be a band that takes risks.

In a great rock and roll show anything can happen. At the Son Volt show, everyone there knew exactly what was going to happen, down to the fine detail reproductions of the recorded guitar solos and metronomic performances of the songs. No one can contest the skill of this band, the genius of Farrar's song writing, or the influence that Son Volt, and more so Uncle Tupelo, has had on music ranging from punk to pop. But in the end Son Volt is not a band to see or to watch; they are a band to listen to.