Review: My Morning Jacket at Beech Mountain Resort
In the dozen or so My Morning Jacket shows I’ve seen over the last two decades in a vast variety of venues — from Atlanta’s smoke-filled Smith’s Olde Bar in the early-aughts At Dawn era, to the thunderstorm-soaked Which Stage at Bonnaroo 2004, to the group’s “One Big Holiday” destination festival on the beaches of the Dominican Republic — Jim James and Co. have always calibrated their sets to suit the energy of the crowd and setting.
The Kentucky road warriors’ closing performance at the Party on the Mountain festival near Boone proved no different, where its reverb-drenched soundscapes had ample room to breathe at 5,500 feet atop the Beech Mountain Ski Resort. Riding high from a headlining slot two nights prior at Newport Folk Festival, the five-piece kicked things off with “Dancefloors” from 2003’s It Still Moves, showcasing Bo Koster’s barroom keys, and segued into the pulsing, stadium-ready anthem “Gideon,” which raised the frequency with the first of James’ signature wails soaring uphill with shimmering sabers of white light.
My Morning Jacket is a rare band that balances earnestness with edge, earning acceptance from Pitchfork, Relix, and Rolling Stone readers alike with its psychedelic-fused palette. Beech Mountain got a taste of the group’s influences — from loose, limber '70s rock (“Run It”) to reggae (“Phone Went West”) to arena rock (“Circuital”) to disco (“Touch Me I’m Going to Scream, Pt. 2”).
The night’s catalog-spanning setlist was a suitable sampler for the festival crowd, balancing fan favorites like the set-closing “One Big Holiday” with diehard-pleasing deep cuts like “Cobra.” Families set up makeshift picnics and nestled into the downslope on camp chairs for a comfortable Sunday evening soundtrack, while those wanting to dance and rage collected in the basin area closer to the stage.
James, sporting sunglasses and a sleeveless black v-neck tee, commanded the crowd from stage left as he seamlessly shape-shifted from song to song. He head-banged along with his bandmates through rockers like “Lay Low”; vamped sans microphone on the trippy “Wordless Chorus”; and serenaded the wildlife roaming the High Country on the meditative “Golden,” which layered his finger-picked Gibson acoustic with Carl Broemel’s tearful pedal steel and Patrick Callahan’s shuffling backbeat.
But it was a 10-plus-minute rendition of “Steam Engine” — a meditation on the metaphysical from It Still Moves that gave Atlanta’s Shaky Knees festival its name — that served as the night’s sonic centerpiece. As each verse expertly built trance and tension, James eventually released with a falsetto crescendo and fitting final line: “The fact that my heart's beating is all the proof you need.”
(Photos by Jay Moye)
