The Lone Bellow caused both weeping and dancing last night at Knuckleheads

The Lone Bellow
Knuckleheads, Kansas City
Sunday, October 27

There were some moments at the Lone Bellow’s show last night at Knuckleheads that felt churchlike – transcendent, even. The Brooklyn trio has been stirring up audiences and critics alike over the past year, and after one evening spent with the members and their music, well, it’s no wonder why.

Lead singer Zach Williams is some kind of force. He is the superglue that holds all the pieces together: the sizzling guitar parts from Brian Elmquist and the mandolin playing of Kanene Pipkin, who are both vocalists, as well as some extra fiber from a drummer and upright bass player (a full band for the tour). The Lone Bellow began when Williams’ newlywed wife was temporarily paralyzed by a horseback riding accident; Williams coped with the tragedy by writing music. When the Lone Bellow performs, it does so with purpose.

Williams and Elmquist were dressed in cuffed dark denim and vaguely western shirts, with perfectly coifed hair that the group’s 90-plus-minute set would eventually ruin. Pipkin had donned a crushed black-velvet dress with fringe running at the bottom. Together, the troupe looked very much like a rockabilly outfit blended with country – which isn’t too far off from their sound.

The band opened with the delicate and harrowing “I Let You Go.” Much of the Lone Bellow’s song catalog follows a similar structure: a sparse, quiet setup that, verse by verse, builds to a roaring crescendo. Each song is a roller coaster. Lyrically, William isn’t doing anything terribly new; the tried-and-true themes of love, loss and hope in the face of heartbreak are all there. The power of his songs comes in the conviction of his delivery.

You could say the crushing, sweep-you-off-your-feet vocal harmonies that Williams, Elmquist and Pipkin deliver are the band’s secret weapon, but it’s really not so much a secret. Elmquist and Pipkin meet Williams on his choruses for thrilling heights that sound as though they were trying to break down doors and burst through floodgates. It feels like country-gospel music, and they sound so good, it’ll make you want to cry. A few people last night did.

Charlie Peacock, the Grammy-winning producer responsible for the Civil Wars’ gold-certified albums, produced the Lone Bellow’s debut self-titled record, released in January. His influence is obvious on the album, which is a bighearted, sensitive thing – not unlike the Lone Bellow’s performance. Midset, Williams decided it was time to unplug and get a little closer to the audience. He and his band jumped off the stage and performed an acoustic version of “Two Sides” as well as a stirring cover of John Prine’s “Angel From Montgomery.”

The alt-country track is a dangerous one these days, what with bands like Mumford & Sons and the Lumineers ruining the genuine emotion that the genre could usually be depended upon for. There were moments during the Lone Bellow’s set that seemed to get almost too churchlike: Williams, always passionate, at one point told the crowd that they were “all courageous” in the middle of a song. He used his preacher presence to get everyone to stand up, pick a partner and slow-dance during “Looking for You.” Everyone was totally into it – Williams is a spectacular and confident leading man – but it was a move that, personally, felt slightly uncomfortable. Like, a few degrees to the left and we may have the makings of a cult.

Toward the end of the show, the vibe at Knuckleheads certainly verged on cultish. Williams had engaged in playful banter with the crowd, storytelling, laughing – reigning in the vast outpouring of emotion that his songs demand. The comfortable Sunday-night audience was on its feet for the band’s one-song encore, “Teach.” As the show ended and the mob of fresh Lone Bellow converts dissipated, there was the unshakable feeling that we all left as slightly better people than when we had arrived.

Set List

This set list isn’t entirely correct. The band inserted the impromptu cover of “Angel From Montgomery” just before “Tree,” and the songs after that are a bit out of order (though all accounted for).