Punch Brothers were so enthused by the beauty and sound ofthe Southern Theatre, the quintet eschewed amps and mics, preferring to playtheir unplugged encore at the front of the stage with only the houselights toguide them.
There was still plenty of gas left in the tank as the bandtore through an instrumental before engaging the audience to help out on “RyeWhiskey” to bring the career-spanning, barn-burning, two-hour concert to anintoxicating close after what seemed to be only 75 minutes or so.
Even by the Punch Brothers’ high standards, the band’s March20 show in Columbus was exceptional and featured a setlist that spurnedesoterica for pure musicianship and songcraft.
Dressed in suits of various levels of formality, fromjackets to vests and shirtsleeves, and arrayed on a sparsely appointed stagewith just a couple of tables to hold their drinks, a stool for bassist PaulKowert’s bow and two microphones, the group nodded to 2018’s All Ashore witha large backdrop depicting silhouetted ship masts as the only eye candy. Well,that and frontman Chris Thile, who, when the music moves him, resembles one ofthose fan-powered stick figures that billows and rocks in front of storefrontsseeking customers. Red socks peeked out from his grey trousers, in what seemeda silent homage to Garrison Keillor, the host Thile replacedon the public-radio program formerly known as "A Prairie Home Companion.”
Kowert, guitarist Chris Eldridge, banjoist Noam Pikelny andviolinist Gabe Witcher were obviously moving mandolinist/vocalist Thile on thisevening, as he hopped on one leg, crouched down low to look up at his bandmateswith an exaggerated frown that curled in to a diabolical smile and contortedhis body in herky-jerky fashion as he picked out notes - all perfectly placed,none muffed.
The vocals, too, were flawless, as Thile held falsetto criesfor insane periods of time, spat out rapid-fire words in a tenor voice andharmonized with his bandmates in twos, threes, fours and - occasionally, as inonce - fives, when the reticent Pikelny joined him on his mic.
The band went back to their beginnings with the secondmovement of “The Blind Leading the Blind” from its debut, Punch; noddedto Claude Debussy on “Passepied,” which Pikelny introduced by saying, “you getto hear the five of us doing the work of one musician;” and played asignificant chunk of All Ashore,from the bluegrassical instrumental"Three Dots and a Dash” to the political commentary of “It’s All Part ofthe Plan” to the rock ‘n’ roll attitude of “The Angel of Doubt.”
The precision in Punch Brothers’ performances continues tostagger, even more than a decade in to their career, as the band zigs and zagsthrough various stylistic landscapes, stops on any number of onstage dimes,accelerates from zero to 60 in nanoseconds and demonstrates time and time againthat intricate ensemble playing is typically much more effective than even themost evocative solo.
Singer/songwriter Gabriel Kahane kicked things off with awildly entertaining, 35-minute set that found him sitting at a piano andplaying stark, insightful songs from his Book of Travelers album,inspired by his cross-country train trip in the wake of the 2016 presidentialelection. These were interspersed with comical numbers based on tweets andCraig’s List ads, such as the rambunctious and hilarious “Neurotic and Lonely.”Kahane also grabbed an electric guitar for “Ambassador,” a song about LosAngeles’ famed, now-demolished hotel, from the perspective of a veteransecurity guard.
Kahane said the Punch Brothers are one of the only bandsthat regularly asks him to join them on tour, presumably “because my chords areso weird.” Another reason may be the Punch Brothers are one of only a fewgroups that wouldn’t be blown off the stage by this impossibly intriguing,complex performer.l S
