Pop Break Live: David Keenan at City Winery in Washington, D.C.
Words & By Jennifer Marie
David Keenan’s presence calls on a sense of of timelessness. Clad in suspenders, patterned collared shirt, and slacks. His curly hair slouches over his forehead, adding movement to his musicality when in full swing. His lyricism and voice are kin to Bob Dylan, Don McLean or Van Morrison’s, without caveat or qualification.
On the back of his sold-out self-released Evidence of Living album launch in New York, he stopped at City Winery in Washington, DC this week. This town can be a reserved, even stiff, on a Monday night. The venue was queerly set as a cloth napkin dinner service. Keenan made quick work of the formal arrangement, ordering chairs moved front and center. Some in the audience stood, while others now lounged on the floor. An enthralled crowd is clearly standard fare for Keenan.
“Now that’s a gig.”
Kicking off with a sung prayer, “Lawrence of Arcadia” (‘I am calling all the bards in to illuminate me now’) with the lilting refrain ‘You can’t kill a killer, no,’ he then led into favorites like El Paso, Postcards from Catalonia and Two Kids.
More a shared experience than one man on a stage, he intentionally builds intimacy among a room full of strangers. Because his lyrics have a lot to carry, and he was performing solo, I wasn’t sure how subdued the performance would be. Subdued it was not. With a tinge of traditional Irish technique, and the trained wail of a busker, his voice is mesmerizingly powerful.
It’s hard to pinpoint everything each Keenan song is about, because while they conjure clear thoughts and feelings, they tell more of ephemeral moments than particular stories. He led a sing-a-long of his Spotify favorite, “The Friary” (‘Hopelessly in love/With the working man’s drug/Yeah I stumble as I amble/Through the disappearing bramble’) preceded by Keep the Peace, Prepare for War, which is about the hope and expectation of love (we think).
With humorous commentary laced throughout, he performed at least two new songs, including “The Origin of the World,” inspired partly by the famous Gustave Courbet painting of the same name (NSFW) (‘Oh, I’m in trouble again/I’m in love with a woman friend’). Snakes and Ladders, also not yet released, was a lovely surprise before he wrapped up with a few others, like the slightly dancier “Unholy Ghosts.”
Between songs, he absentmindedly caresses the strings in a certain pattern; contemplating the next selection, or simply taking in the moment. It’s a noticeable habit that his mannerisms, his singing and music all seem to be part of a genuine whole. Leaving the show felt like saying goodbye to a long-missed friend.
If we had to guess at his future, it will be shaped by his continued ability to captivate in the raw. It is not hard to imagine his clear voice earning permanent recognition on the back of a Hollywood soundtrack, like James Blunt or Glen Hansard have before him. He was deservedly included on NPR’s The Austin 100, ahead of his performances at SXSW. He wrapped up his US tour with two sold-out shows in New York, and will move onto gigs in the UK, Ireland and festivals in Europe this summer.
We look forward to having have him back on our shores.
