Dear Carl Newman,
It hasn't been one of the best months but I'll spare you the gory details. As the frontman of an internationally-revered, touring pop band, you're a busy man. Suffice it to say, I am a longtime fan and was really looking forward to (and not to sound precious, but needed and counted on) the uplifting all-out rock fest, harmonious pop majesty and emotional catharsis your all-star band is equipped to provide. So I caught your performance at the Beacham Theatre in Orlando, with Michael Benjamin's feisty Seattle band Telekinesis properly doing their damndest to warm up the crowd. Loved Benjamin's standing-up-on-drums sendoff.
First of all, thanks for all the times The New Pornographers got me through a traffic jam, picked me up from the doldrums and helped me clean the house (my companion mentioned she cleans the house to your band, too. It's a thing, I guess.) You warmly-weathered voice, with its honesty and barely imperceptible lisp, tugs at my heart. You sounded even better live.
I know the tour touted all of the original members, and you were down two of your most high-profile bandmates (Destroyer man Dan Bejar and solo star Neko Case). Despite any unsettling energies their void left you with, you sounded just about perfect. The power; the blend of acoustic and electric; Kurt Dahle's soul-socking, crashing beats; the glistening gauze of Beach Boys sparkliness, and above all, the ethereally earthy vocal performance of your niece/keyboardist/accordion goddess, Kathryn Calder, together made for what was almost a top 10 concert experience.
This article appears in Oct 13-19, 2011.