The Philly based indie folk band promotes their new album in a special acoustic set.
As the wedding party descends the stairs of Drowned Lands Brewery in Warwick, New York, flannel adorned, beanie-wearing music fans rush forward step by step. Jake Ewald pulls out his trusty guitar to finally appease the thirsty crowd.
Scheduled only thirty minutes after a wedding, Slaughter Beach, Dog presented a free acoustic set down in the Hudson Valley at the damp Drowned Lands Brewery, filled with oysters, lobster rolls, and strangely named IPAs.
Slaughter Beach, Dog’s newest album Crying, Laughing, Waving, Smiling, delivers their most polished form of storytelling yet, drawing from Ewald’s literary and real life influences. Although more country and folk heavy than previous offerings, it manages to hold on to what makes Slaughter Beach, Dog so unrivalled.
Ewald begins the set with a slew of songs from the new record, including “Strange Weather,” named after the Hiromi Kawakami novel, and “My Sister in Jesus Christ,” which is about him running late to church as a child. The warmth in his delivery combined with Adam Meisterhans’ swinging guitar solos kept the crowd smiling the whole way, even if they didn’t know the lyrics yet.
The vivid visuals Ewald provides make you feel like you’re from a family of ministers in “My Sister in Jesus Christ” with cheeky lyrics like “I’ve got a girlfriend/ She’s got a snakeskin purse and a walk in closet chock-full of My Chemical Romance shirts” and “Girlie you’ve got a buttercream film smeared over your overalls.” Ewald and Meisterhans seem to have a hell of a time foolishly drawing out words and sounds throughout.
The crimson glow from the windows begins to settle and the drumming of the rain keeps the room from its silence as they begin the next song, “Summer Windows.” The repetitive strumming and folksy reminiscing in his lyrics “I wish that I could tell you what I’m thinking about/ I wish that I could walk into your house” helps me part with the remains of dog-days long gone.
“What do the people want?” Ewald chuckles. After a couple of shouts, he seems content choosing “Gold and Green” from their sophomore album Birdie.
At this point in the evening, the sun has fully set and the only light in the room comes from the central chandelier and the warm glow of candles surrounding the band. The coming-of-age memories of family gatherings and deviance resonate with the audience as everyone sings along, even the infants. Even the simplest of feelings he describes with the most care, with my most treasured being “Serpentine explanations for why I stayed out of sight” and “Perched on the counter in our shorts and our socks.”
As if Ewald’s eyes cut through the crowd and noticed my Modern Baseball t-shirt, he says, “This one’s for the people that have been here a while.” He begins the familiar tune from one of the last released songs of his previous band, Modern Baseball, and tears begin to swell to “Intersection.”
The bittersweet swaying melody and words yearn for a time or person that is now forever changed. The acoustic version of the song reaches more deeply during lines like “I should not say I love you but I feel it all the time” and “The words don’t sound the same when we speak over the phone.” For a song so rarely played live, it sure made use of its three minutes to stay in my memory for good.
Although I did note the absence of the harmonica and drums from all the songs, I wasn’t too hurt as the exposed nature of an acoustic set fits so well with everything Slaughter Beach, Dog does. I only wish that the wedding party had stuck around to experience their wholesome tunes.
The short set ends softly with another classic from Birdie, “Acolyte.” Ewald sweetly hums about escaping the grasp of Ohio, gazing at his wife across the hall behind the merch table. And the night floats away with the collective whistling closing out the song.