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Back on track
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Boston’s Buffalo Tom come from a time when it was easier to dream — when rock-and-roll seemed to be reinventing itself again as something strong and true, a flag to fly in the face of the repressive culture created by the Reagan-Bush dynasty. At its best, alternative rock — the genre that Buffalo Tom, the Pixies, and so many other bands with erudite lyrics and sounds were branded with — spoke for a generation tired of tight-lipped, conservative, and frankly cold-hearted authority figures, using either irony or honesty to build a refuge of sincerity in a cynical time. The best of these bands made things easier for the rest of us. Not with polemics, but by creating an oasis of human warmth in a frigid, dour climate. Things have only gotten worse, and not just because the Reagan-Bush liars have grabbed the world by the throat again and plunged in their fangs. And this time rock-and-roll’s not doing its job. When the most openhearted music comes from strummers like John Mayer, Josh Rouse, and Dave Matthews, what’s to rally around? Their music is so bloodless that their passions seem dispassionate. Last Saturday, January 24, Buffalo Tom proved they are still believers. They were utterly committed to their big, growling sound and soul-searching songs onstage at the Middle East for their second local show in as many years. Stripped back to their original trio sans latecomer keyboardist Phil Aiken, singer Bill Janovitz, bassist Chris Colbourn, and drummer Tom Maginnis also seemed intent on backing away from their semi-hiatus. They played a fistful of new songs for the first time in years. Some didn’t seem fully formed, and Janovitz admitted as much from the stage. But three captured the combination of brawn and wistfulness that made the best of their earlier material so compelling. The new "Bottom of the Rain," with its lyrics about loss and uncertainty, came right on the heels of their 1992 radio breakthrough, "Taillights Fade," a classic of the alt-rock era, and didn’t suffer by comparison. A few songs later, the ballad "Lost Downtown" trimmed back some of their set’s momentum and could have benefited from one of the unpredictable guitar solos — knots of feedback, fat chords, and single notes that blend chromatic major runs with blues scales — that are Janovitz’s signature, rather than the fairly linear excursion he mounted. But "Bad Phone Call" — which explored guilt, personal evolution, and the continuing allure of a relationship that’s outlived its worth — was harder and more focused. Of course, this show was about pleasing the sold-out crowd as well as testing new waters, so the favorites "Soda Jerk," "Treehouse," "Kitchen Door" (with Fuzzy’s Hilken Mancini on harmonica), and "Tangerine," as well as lovely, lesser-known album cuts like "Rachel," were part of the mix. And though Buffalo Tom are no longer part of a movement, they proved they can still transform a humid basement of a rock club into an oasis.
BY TED DROZDOWSKI
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