The Bard Came to Town:Jason Anderson & the “Badgers” Perform at La De Da Books (March 21, 2005, Manitowoc, WI)

The bard came to town. Much like the fabled bards of old who wandered over the hills of Ireland telling tales of kings and queens, knights and dragons, lads and lasses, nobles and peasants, the bards of history and the bards of fantasy, Jason Anderson came to Manitowoc to sing, weaving stories and music, weaving strangers and friends, creating a community-family-sing-along at La De Da Books on Monday night.

The 40 or so gathered for the show were dubbed by Anderson as the “Badgers,” becoming his road band for a one-night only performance. Teaching us the lines and melodies as we went, encouraging us to live the moment and enjoy this day, remarking even before the first song that the night would be something we’d remember and talk about all week, a community waits for a bard like Anderson to come, open up ears, mouths, and hearts, engaging us in the common stories that come from Anderson’s own life and from distant lands (New Hampshire) but resonate so clearly in our city on Lake Michigan.

Anderson’s music has the quality of John Wesley Harding’s to be American Folk while always slipping towards Indie Rock. For wit and persona and stage presence and storytelling, Harding is a perfect comparison. As Anderson moved through the crowded bookstore space to bring a song to each listener, I remembered Harding along with Ellis Paul making their way into the crowd for an encore. I remembered Glenn Tilbrook in Manitowoc last summer acting like a pied piper, leading a sing-a-long group around the park. Yet, neither of those occasions matches Anderson’s sincere goal of playing with “the band,” adopting each individual into the family, and being intensely aware of some spirit that led him to choose his words for those who came to see.

Based on his newest release, The Wreath, Anderson more comfortably fits in the College Rock section of the Spectrum. Many reviewers have hitched him up to the Bright Eyes wagon, but in that “wandering over from American Folk quality,” I hear the indie rock of Cass McCombs or King Creosote, singer-songwriters playing in a rock studio that’s used to expanding the concept of rock music, a studio with an eclectic set of instruments and production at its disposal beyond the acoustic guitar and stool of folk trappings.

Indie Rock?
However, Anderson in concert doesn’t act as if he comes from some closed circle of indie rock, a café with a hidden door known only to those already sipping the coffee. Anderson isn’t afraid to reference lesser known artists, but the music in his stories of mix tapes, etc., comes from the Spin Doctors, the Beatles, Lenny Kravitz, Brittany Spears, and Cyndi Lauper. When vamping into a sing-along, he allows the crowd/band to vote between Whitney Houston, Fine Young Cannibals, or Prince. (By the way, Anderson’s cover of Fine Young Cannibals’ “She Drives Me Crazy” borders on a great Adam Sandler impersonation).

Frankly, I was amazed that a K Records artist was coming to Manitowoc, because Manitowoc is clearly not a regular in the indie rock scene. Yet, there’s no scene about Anderson; he simply is himself. In fact, Anderson explained that he dropped the Wolf Colonel moniker, under which he originally recorded, when he finally became more comfortable with himself. Even more so, he seems comfortable with his listeners—whether they be 40 people in Northeastern Wisconsin, or the more typical indie rock fans in Chicago, or six kids on a driveway in Tulsa, OK.

So Anderson isn’t the kind of indie artist who only accepts true indie music and indie fans. In talking to Anderson after the show, we shared the disappointment over how fans of independent bands rue the day when those bands are discovered by a wider audience, teenage girls wearing Nirvana T-shirts at the mall. Instead, Anderson sees such a step as victory, a time when great music is finally heard by more people.

Therefore, Anderson showed no qualms about identifying Bob Dylan and Bruce Springsteen as influential for their performance and “lyrical expression.” Surely Springsteen would be suspect to high-brow indie crowd, but Anderson’s just honestly saying that Springsteen is one who can write a lyric well. On the other hand, Anderson esteems artists like Ted Leo and the Weakerthans who are “literate and personal,” who have gained a large following but have remained independent with a DIY (do-it-yourself) attitude, becoming “rock stars without the decadent traits of rock stars.”

Bard-in-Residence
During the evening, Anderson made the joke that he didn’t want to sound like “some cheesy motivational speaker,” but all night long I couldn’t help but wish that he would come speak to a graduating high school class, motivating them to live for each day. A fellow member of the “Badgers” remarked that the evening was like going to church, Anderson preaching and singing and leading the hallelujah’s of sorts. I agreed; I had already envisioned preaching a sermon intertwined with Anderson’s singing and storytelling.

Our community could use Anderson as a bard-in-residence. I would have him speak to groups for the Asset Building Community, a program designed to help youth identify 40 developmental assets that will help them succeed in life. So much of what Anderson has to say is about are those assets—community, self-esteem, appreciation of those around you, breaking down walls between people.

I would want him to perform at schools on behalf of the Manitowoc County Abstinence Coalition. While Anderson’s songs don’t necessarily talk about sex and/or sexual abstinence, he speaks about the need for relationships to be positive. The song “O Jac!” breezes through an open window, lightly moving the curtains, quietly speaking the truth about a relationship that is “a cloud about us, there is an albatross/there is a yoke/a bracelet, a noose/a millstone of expectation, yeah/a weird heavy amulet of expectation/that hangs and tugs and rushes.” The piling up of metaphors describing an unhealthy relationship puts that pain in the pit of your stomach.

I would want him to come play songs and talk to the youth that walk past our church on their way home from school. So many of those teens are looking for direction, hope, or just a listening ear. Anderson the Bard could sit on our picnic table, pointing to the value of each individual youth. Even through those odd tones of some of his songs and song fragments, that passion for instilling esteem and value into each person’s heart is so clear. I want those youth to stop, hear “The Library,” one of the standout songs from The Wreath, and listen to Anderson talk about “appreciating what we have in the world,” because the “unexplained life isn’t a life worth living.”

Thinking all of this, I asked him afterwards to consider performing at my church, letting me use his music as a springboard to teach about Jesus. It’s something we’re both seriously considering. To be fair, Anderson doesn’t subscribe to any one religion and said during the show, “These songs for me are like church—all the best parts of community without the creepy parts.” Personally, I want to discover how to eradicate the creepy parts from the community I find in knowing Christ in a gathering of fellow believers. Different conclusions about the matter, perhaps, but a shared concern.

Yet, in case this sounds to much like that “cheesy motivational speaker” that Anderson doesn’t want to be, I wouldn’t have thought of all these places for the bard-in-residence to go if he had been cheesy, overt, received, blase, pat, or insincere. The thing is, the guy’s just got this huge heart for people and life and the world. That kind of heart is so rare, so needed. His motivational message doesn’t grow out of corporate steps to success; his message comes truly from his life experience, sores and all. That’s why I’d love for him to allow me to communicate the Gospel of Jesus using his music, because the message of Christ comes through life experience and broken down places.

There are other singers setting out to do seminars, workshops, and youth talks, but many seem so pretentious and syrupy sincere. Anderson, though, is able to speak about Zen moments such as when you really have to go to the bathroom and then you get to go. It’s like sitting around a college dorm room, listening to an upperclassman sing and doodle with his guitar, not even realizing that you’re learning so much from her wisdom.

Anderson would be perfect for Chapel Point at YMCA Camp Menogyn, a pristine peninsula on West Bearskin Lake in the Boundary Waters of Minnesota. Each morning while you’re at camp, you begin at Chapel Point, pews of cut logs placed into the bank. Staring across the lake, the loons still calling, Anderson could wake you up, make you believe in yourself, and send you out to canoe for 30 days in the wilderness while trusting your tripmates like family.

Label Boss Comes to Town
Following closely on Anderson’s heels is Calvin Johnson, the founder of K Records. Johnson will perform at La De Da Books, Manitowoc, on April 3. When asked about his label boss, Anderson spoke about how much Johnson has seen in the music world—the early Nirvana shows, recording Beck in his basement, putting out some of the first Modest Mouse recordings. K Records, located in Olympia, Washington, has been part of the Northwest music scene for decades. Johnson has been a part of Beat Happening, Dub Narcotic Sound System, Built to Spill, and Robyn Hitchcock. His solo work is hauntingly, deeply, darkly voiced, but it speaks forth a message culled from these varied sounds that Johnson has heard, combining his own style with strains and flavors of those he’s worked with, like singing along to an AM radio picking up multiple stations at the same time.

Local Singer Becomes Songwriter Again?
Opening for Anderson was Mason Auman who offered a few twangy covers of classic folk-rock. Auman said he hasn’t written hardly anything coming to Manitowoc from Washington via Colorado—except for his closing song, “South of Green Bay Blues, East of Madison Blues, North of Milwaukee Blues, Manitowoc Blues.” If that’s any indication of what Auman has stored up inside, he’s got to find a way to write and sing.

Thanks to Ian the Promoter, organizing his first show ever to great success. Thanks to Bev at La De Da for adventurously opening her shop up to this show. Thanks to Jason Anderson for coming to Manitowoc, his performance, and his time. Thanks to K Records for the review copy.