Stay a little longer

Location, location, location.

They say it makes all the difference in real estate. But it can make just as much of a difference in shows sometimes, too.

Friday night, the Avett Brothers/BR549 Dogs & Thieves tour stopped at the Mohegan Sun in Uncasville, Connecticut. The show was held in a free venue smack dab in the middle of the casino floor, at the same time the tattooed and hammered were paying $40 to see Kid Rock in the Mohegan Sun Arena. Now, free is good; most things sound a little better when they're free (Kid Rock, for instance, would sound much better if I weren't paying to see him). But free is also bad, particularly when it attracts a collection of morose, overweight slot pullers who just want to sit somewhere for a few hours in between staring at cherries and bars.

And that's what made up a decent portion of the crowd at the Wolf Den. So when the Avett Brothers took the stage, and when Seth Avett started screaming during "Pretty Girl from Cedar Lane," the biggest reaction they got from down front was a guy briefly unfolding his arms before quickly returning them to their lofty perch on his prodigious gut. Though the shorter set (a little less than 25 minutes) was too brief for us (and maybe five other people who seemed to express some enthusiasm), it probably ended just in time for the Avetts. They did their best, screamed and shook and stomped, but, well, some nights it's just out of your hands.

The crowd was more into BR549, who have a slightly more palatable (but still real good) sound that is unlikely to offend the slot jockeys. Plus, they seemed to have a few bona fide fans in attendance. But they seemed to tone things down from the Annapolis show, and it was far from a home run for them, either.

The Bowery Ballroom--now that was a home run.

From the first bars of "Pretty Girl from Cedar Lane" (which got a much better reaction) to the last strains of "Salvation Song," the Avetts were on fire like I've never seen them before. And in some ways, I doubt the show would've been so great without the dismal reception the night before. The Avetts played like they had something to prove, though based on the initial crowd reactions, a lot of people came to the show with all the proof they needed. It was a perfect meeting of energized band and rabid crowd, and for 75 minutes last Saturday night, there was no better band in the world than the Avett Brothers.

Broken strings, knocked-over water bottles, buckets of sweat--nothing could stop the Avett Express (though after yet another string broke on his guitar on "Salvation Song," Seth refused guest Paleface's offer of his guitar, simply saying "I don't wanna play guitar anymore"). They steamrolled the crowd on the floor with old favorites, new songs off the upcoming CD, and what may be my favorite Avett song of the moment, "All My Mistakes," which is so new it didn't make it on the new CD. It's a song that makes "punk bluegrass" an inaccurate, or at least inadequate, description of the Avetts. So many bands do one thing real well and that's as far as it goes. But the Avett Brothers can clobber you with a fast-paced romp, then lull you into thinking that you'll be able to catch your breath by following with a slower number, only to knock that breath right back out of you with a song so beautiful it knocks you sideways.

If this is a just world, or at least a world where good bands who aren't Pitchfork-approved can find deserved success, then 2006 will be the Avetts' year. This time next year you'll be commenting on how prescient I was, even if you don't know what prescient means (I think I do, and I think it's the word I want). And you will pray to me at a shrine that you have lovingly constructed, sending me "donations" and worshipping me like Rerun worshipped that head of lettuce.

But I'll settle for just the Avetts being as huge as they deserve to be.

BR549 also stepped things up in NYC. Though their set list didn't change all that much in the three shows, the Avetts' set at the Bowery seemed to compel them to step up their game. And with a monstrous talent like Donnie Herron in the band, they cannot be underestimated. If I were to start a country band, I think I'd call Donnie first. My guess is he'd decline, though, citing some crazy reason like "But you can't sing or play an instrument, James." I wouldn't take it personally.

By the time the show wrapped up with the all-hands-on-deck encores of "Just Because" and "Stay A Little Longer," I was ready to murder anybody that anyone on stage wanted killed. What I mean to say is I was very happy. Happy that the two bands seem to get along so well. Happy that I wasn't back in the Wolf Den. And happy that I had an early seat on the Avett bandwagon.