“I work for free ‘cause love is all I need”
Big Thief’s beloved Buck Meek animates his philosophy through song as his body follows his spasmodic guitar as if trying to catch fireflies in a strawberry jam jar.
Old timers who stake out for Yo La Tengo tickets and Gen Z free-for-all-ers unite over a shared interest in Buck Meek’s alt-country charm. The combined forces create a drastic dichotomy between OG Buck Meek fans who are flanneled millennials with sharp haircuts, and pierced Big Thief worshipers; referred to as “Gen Z gender benders” (coined by the older Yo La Tengo representation in the crowd).
Big Thief is currently at its peak and naturally, Buck Meek’s solo career lives under the shadow of his band’s success. Coming to Globe Hall, Meek has the opportunity to make a testament to his solo career outside of Big Thief. The younger audience proceeds with a curious nature, gentle with excitement, opening our arms to his unexplored solo talent.
His lyrics echo his motion of taming the animalistic guitar –or rather, the guitar escorts him– as he opens with the lyrics “fireflies show me around,” (Cannonball! Pt. 2), the band queues in. Where Buck Meek is the storyteller, passing down generational tales of love through each song, guitarist Adam Brisbin provides the atmosphere that animates Meek’s fable. His first three songs are strong in nostalgic imagery: the theme of his album Two Saviors. He takes us to Puertecitos, where the clouds abrasively move into the nostalgic longing for one’s blue eyes.
We are showered by optimism and hope as Buck Meek consistently paints the tale of love that is reliable and nourishing. A love that says here take this hot tea, let me wash your hair, I’ll have an orange scone waiting for you in the sunroom when you are ready. Or rather let’s “lay by the energy tree” aside “dirt flowers and honey bees” and tell me “‘bout your troubling dream” (from “Where You’re Coming From”).
“Where You’re Coming From” is the product of two sonic counterparts in tender creative collaboration. Meek’s dear friend Jolie Holland released the same titled body of work, yet is drastically different. Courtesy of Buck Meek’s Haunted Mountain, Meek hammers down his youthful sound, filled with love, life, and guitar fuzz. His love is young and alive and we find hope in an artist who does not romanticize the complexities of pain and emotion and instead, the juvenile simplicity of love.
Just when we find ourselves in utter infatuation with Meek’s uplifting curiosity, he drives us into the pensive court of “Halo Light” where its grander unfamiliarity with the song forces the audience to be quiet and listen to Meek’s gentle guitar plucking and Brisban’s hazy slides. The instrumentation is easily overlooked in comparison to the rest of the set, but its modesty creates a heavenly sonic backdrop to accompany Meek’s light melody. “Halo Light” is drenched in loss, without longing: though our bodies are impermanent, our “love remains” beyond physical form. There’s a grander acceptance of the transitory.
Unabashed folk, stripped dainty guitar work, attentive drumming, and the familiar melody of “Certainty” rallies up the Big Thief representation at Globe. Performing this Big Thief track without the band allows Meek to take full control of the song, making it his own: “Certainty” becomes a country foot jam that embraces the uniquely gorgeous Buck Meek harmony already present in the recorded track. His previously backing vocals slip into the vocal point seamlessly and he takes charge of the song to be of his own. The crowd responds enthusiastically, livening up the dancing and evoking grins in his honoring of the cherished group.
While Meek holds down the fort in “Certainty,” we miss the feminine ghostly backing of “Miss Misty”. He twinkles his fingers across his guitar and Brisbin fills the echoing vocal role, previously owned by Adrianne Lenker. Lingering pops of Brisbin’s dreamy guitar work and Austin Vaughn’s quick shaker reshapes the tempo and loses the acoustic power that is so treasured by the a-sides duo of Meek and Lenker. He allows Miss Misty to breathe new air with an impatient tempo that feels artificial and unnatural to the ear and craves the brutal coldness of Meek’s authentic acoustic work.
The alt-country twangy charm that is Buck Meek can be accredited to his fluctuating nasally voice that shocks rural rasp in your ear. His distinct sonic scent is addictive; like a yodel, we can recall his presence from miles away. His craftsmanship lies in the tenderness of his lyrics and the fluidity of guitar work paired with bodily expression. Throughout his set, Meek never names his love, he doesn’t even name the object of his desire; yet, his painterly imagery transcends a love song to a devotion of healthy permanence.
Haunted Mountain is a collection of endearments, drawing on trinkets from the volcano of Milos, the mountaintops of Serra de Estrela, and lush Valle Onsernone. It is a privilege to catch a glimpse of Meek’s eternal curiosity and watch him unravel his wandering soles in narration at Globe Hall.
