After a short walk through a light drizzle from rightful Best of the Bay-winning burger joint Engine No. 9, we arrived at an already-packed State Theatre. Neither rain nor Monday Night Football nor work looming the following day kept people away from such an exciting billing led by Pennsylvania's charming, vintage-psych rock sextet, Dr. Dog.
SWIMM was the only opener, but proved the only warm-up needed. While I hadn’t had the pleasure of checking out the Florida-born L.A.-based outfit before this night, I was struck by their overall sonic lushness and beauty; Chris Hess’ lovely voice. Adam Winn’s bluesy harmonica, the layered guitars and pristine vocal harmonies all held the crowd rapt. Unfortunately, the tallest men in the venue stood directly in front of me, static, and weren't even facing the stage but each other as they carried on a deep conversation about their hair. Despite the rather annoying distraction (we're at a concert, people!), I enjoyed the set immensely and will definitely be picking up some tunes by these Space Coast natives.
We re-located to the rather crowded front during the setbreak, and Dr. Dog come into view, I gazed at this band I’ve seen so many times over so many years, and then glanced at the throng of awestruck girls that lined the edge of the stage, and made a mental note to ring up Scully and Mulder, because somehow, Dr. Dog never ages and their fans just keep getting younger.
After briefly warming the crowd back up, “The Rabbit, The Bat & The Reindeer" prompted a mini mosh pit that was thoroughly chilled out when they followed it up with the melancholy
groove of “Shame, Shame.” Fans barely old enough to buy beer were spilling it all over us (and everyone else down in the throng), and I'd long ago decided that being up front wasn't as important to me as actually hearing the show properly (read: away from the blare of the stage's main speakers), so we edged further back. Being an adult is so lame sometimes, am I right? But this just led to another issue — remove the ear plugs or let the full glory of “Lonesome” wash over me? I came to the conclusion that a little tinnitus was worth experiencing the full glory of Dr. Dog. (Maybe I'm not quite an official adult yet.)
Dr. Dog launched into “Too Weak to Ramble” and brought the crowd back to a simmer, while “Phenomenon” took the simmer to psychedelic heights as the mass of heads bobbed under the wash of green glowing stage lights. We spent the rest of the show hanging in the balcony, singing along to “Shadow People” with friends and strangers as the musicians kicked up and danced down, eventually closing the set with the one-two punch of “Worst Trip” and “That Old Black Hole.” They exited to the sounds of the crowd already chanting, “ONE MORE SONG!”
And because this is Dr. Dog, man, did they ever deliver, returning to the stage and opening with a re-worked version of “Fate” that made me want to simultaneously break into goosebumps and tears. After three more songs, Dr. Dog announced they were having so much fun, they decided to takes some requests, and they were good ones: “The Breeze,” “Die Die Die” (I did, it was brilliant), “Jackie Wants a Black Eye” and “Oh No”. When they finally bid us goodnight, they’d been on stage for roughly two hours and had played more than 20 songs.
I see dozens and dozens of bands every year, and Dr. Dog has remained one of my favorites to see live. I'm already anticipating their return.
