REVIEW: Jim James @ Shubert Theatre 11/16

By David Taylor

At the Shubert Theatre on Nov. 16, Jim James performed a show that left me confused. His concert was a solo gig, an acoustic set with most songs performed only by himself and his guitar, with the occasional accompaniment of a drummer who would walk out on stage, play one or two songs, then walk off again.

James entered the stage barefoot, wearing a sleeveless vest and no shirt. He picked up his guitar, walked to the front of the stage, and took his place beneath the spotlight, where he stayed for most of the night. The set was largely undecorated and simple, his spotlight being so bright that we could see little beyond the boundary of where the light ended and the darkness filling the rest of the stage began. It fit the show well. It left the audience undistracted, parallelling the simplicity of the musician that it surrounded

The concert started out shaky, James insufficiently warming up his voice before entering the stage. About halfway through his first song, however, his voice shook off the dust and woke up. It sounded fantastic, beautifully raspy and full. It had no issue filling Shubert Theatre, the big notes rattling the top row of the highest section. As the first few songs continued on, James grew increasingly comfortable on stage, experimenting with his voice, singing Dave Matthews-esque high runs that gave me goosebumps and low notes that stretched his voice slightly beyond his range, almost sillily, that made me chuckle in admiration rather than ridicule.

But James’s guitar playing was disappointing, which was surprising given past performances. There were moments when he just strummed the acoustic guitar monotonously, as if he had to keep reminding himself that there was in fact a guitar in his hands. Each song began to sound more like the next, the same chords played repeatedly, only in slightly different rhythms. The guitar’s volume should have been much higher as well. It was just at the annoying level that my dad likes to set the radio to: too quiet to be heard but too loud to be ignored, so you’re left straining to hear it. This was not his fault so much as the sound engineer’s, but it was distracting nonetheless.

His lyrics also lacked the quality that I assumed they had. Listening only to his album-version, I never bothered to pay attention to what he was actually saying. But when James strips the music (the best part of his songs) accompanying his lyrics on the record, many of them cannot stand on their own. They are predictable and cliché, preaching for world peace and universal love. These are topics that should, in my opinion, be left to beauty pageants–and the rare exception of Lennon’s “Imagine.”

Yet despite these fairly harsh criticisms, the audience was infatuated with James all night. There was something about him that grabbed them and–importantly– kept their attention. For more than one song, I could hear a pin drop between notes. Silence. Silence as we all sat and watched the man perform. He had a great command over the room. After he hit his final note and set down his guitar, he was even greeted with a rare standing ovation.

Now I am confused of what to think of this show. There were unforgivable issues that under most circumstances would ruin the concert. The lyrics were poor. The guitar was poor. The sound was off. But somehow, the audience could not get enough of him. There was something about him that they loved, so much so that everybody gave him a standing ovation.