Boston show, Brighton Music Hall. Robyn and band were in fantastic form, but it has to be said: the sound at the show was abysmal. Not simply poor, but unprofessional. I want to say something lighthearted like, “The sound person seemed to have a vendetta against amplified vocal music and to be using this show to fight against this trend of crooning with all available powers.” But that makes it into a joke, when in fact this was a case of a venue that collected a lot of money from very devoted fans and showed no respect at all to a 73-year-old artist putting on an inspired performance. And it wasn’t just the challenge of mixing the band. It started with the opening act. Emma’s set consisted of a single guitar and a single vocalist, yet still somehow her singing was lost in the mix for nearly the whole set. I hadn’t heard her sing any of her new songs before Sunday, and after Sunday, I still haven’t. Her guitarist was extraordinary, but I doubt he intended to bury Emma’s voice in a wash of distorted over-EQ’d guitar mid-range. During Robyn’s set, most of us had the benefit of knowing everything so well that you could imagine how the vocals would fit with this great band, but as for the new songs, the only words I understood were the refrains and “egg fried rice.” The worst part was that the singers were singing so confidently, not straining at all; apparently the mix in the monitors was excellent. At one point Robyn asked if the balance was all right, thinking of himself and Emma, and there was an eruption of “NO!” from the crowd, which Robyn and Emma interpreted as meaning his voice had been overwhelming hers, rather than that the mix was, simply, terrible. The sound person -- who managed to look at once defiant and utterly, mind-numbingly bored -- did at this point turn Emma up slightly, but this was “up” to the level of a lead singer who couldn’t be understood in the mix. I am not a complainer! I honestly hate to say a bad word about anything connected to Robyn. Despite it all, I enjoyed the show … but what a shame! I hope Robyn comes back again soon, and I hope someone tells him not to go back to this venue.

James F
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Online review by Culture Beat
As Robyn Hitchcock reminded us about halfway through his set on June 14 at Brighton Music Hall, it had been a hot minute since he last hit town with a full band behind him. A lot has changed in the wake of those thirteen years, and Hitchcock mentions time as a finite quantity in the interview that Culture Beat did with him just a few days ago. Just look at the band who backed him for that show. Bill Rieflin has passed away, and Scott McCaughey has recovered from a near-fatal stroke. To use a current sports-relevant analogy, you don’t always know how much time is left on your clock, so make the best of the present.

The makeup of this band was a fair bit different than having a megastar like Peter Buck in it, but they were no less proficient. Patrick Berkery has played with the likes of The War on Drugs, Pernice Brothers, and New Radiant Storm King. Rick Lollar, who played with Emma Swift for her set and joined Hitchcock for a three Telecaster attack midway through, is a veteran of Jimmy Herring’s solo project. Todd Bolden on bass and Jeremy Fetzer on guitar and occasional maracas rounded thing out, and the latter two play on his forthcoming record, The Confuser.

Of course, looking forward doesn’t mean you forget the past, and while they did play a couple of songs from the yet-to-be released record, most of the night focused on earlier material. It was either from his first band The Soft Boys, his solo work with or without The Egyptians, or a healthful handful of cover songs from some of his musical heroes. Starting out with just his polka-dotted “Tubbycaster” and a microphone, the delicate strains of “Raymond Chandler Evening” and the achingly beautiful “I Often Dream of Trains” were a sublime start to his set. The band then ambled onto stage and took their positions, kicking into “Kingdom of Love,” a bouncy Soft Boys song that belies a disturbing image of insects hatching from eggs laid under the skin of your chin.

“America” came on the heels of the ’60s paisley psych-drenched “Acid Bird,” which reminded me of Psychedelic Furs. I guess not too surprising as he’s covered “The Ghost in You” plenty of times in the past, although there was an extended guitar jam between Hitchcock and Fetzer that the Furs would never think to do.

The darkly Barrett-esque “Globe of Frogs” gave way to probably his best-known song, the happily surreal and jaunty “Balloon Man” that got a full Nashville treatment of ringing, chiming Telecasters. Even though it was a Sunday evening, the room was jammed with people, and Hitchcock was most appreciative by saying, “Boston, thank you for coming out en masse tonight. You’re standing straight like a field of asparagus.” As is the case, his off-kilter between songs banter is part of the enjoyment of a performance. Some of ones I managed to jot down included the observance that humans contain more microbes than one can possibly imagine, as well referring to items for sale at the merch table referred to as the tray of holy relics.

If they sell out they might come back again, like sabretooth tigers or fascism .Speaking of the latter, it was a certain president’s birthday, Hitchcock took the opportunity to dedicate a song to him, and really a better choice than “I Wanna Destroy You” could not be made.

Swift came on to lend harmonies on a few songs, including the resplendent “So You Think You’re in Love” which might be closest anyone’s gotten to attaining the power pop flair of Big Star. The arpeggio-laden “Flesh Number One (Beatle Dennis)” followed, with “More Than This” neatly tucked into the middle. Hitchcock’s pure love of The Beatles, Dylan, Barrett and The Kinks is well chronicled, but the loose “Rock ‘n’ Roll Toilet” from his Soft Boys days had a singular swinging Stones feel to it. “Insanely Jealous” had a claustrophobic frenzy that could have been conjured by Lennon in the grips of withdrawal.

The last few songs were presented as an encore where we pretend everyone left the stage and got back to their instruments just in time to play some foundational songs of Robyn’s early musical journey. First up was Lou Reed’s “I’m Waiting for the Man,” followed by Barrett’s “See Emily Play.” “Soul Kitchen” sounded distinctly different with the lack of keyboards, and Dylan via Jimi Hendrix’s contribution was a great reading of “All Along the Watchtower.”

Noting it was Sunday, he ambled off stage and told us to join him singing “Hymn 59”. I am pretty sure that The Beatles didn’t have that on the short list of titles for “A Day in the Life” but it was a pretty rapturous moment as he made his way without a mic or amplifier, singing along with the rest of us in the middle of the room.