CONCERT REVIEW: Great Peacock at the Mercury Lounge, 3/26/14

Let’s just say that Saturday was very much a day of managed expectations. But as anyone reading this knows, beautiful music is a panacea for all heartache. Great Peacock wowed the a restive crowd, confused because there was a healthy difference between the set times the Mercury Lounge had published online and the reality. There were comments like, “This isn’t the band we’re here to see!” And “Are they a country band…?” Not that this would come as a surprise to those of you who are familiar with the band, but after one song Great Peacock enchanted us all.

I’ve enjoyed Great Peacock’s music in the past. They fall a little closer to the Lumineers on the Americana scale than is generally my taste, but “Desert Mountain” and “Take Me to the Mountain” often ring through my head. Seeing the band live, however, has turned me into a true believer.

To watch Great Peacock is a study in contradictions. Blount Floyd’s heavy metal headbanger intensity counterbalance Andrew Nelson’s studiously cool country singer. The two singers bring punk rock intensity to songs as intricately crafted and delicate as chantilly lace. Drummer Nick Recio and bassist Ben Cunningham’s stoic personas make their masterful performances look like child’s play. If you’ve played music live on stage, then you know that it’s basically impossible to hear your bandmates. Floyd and Nelson’s harmonies were as tight as any studio recording. When I asked him about it after the show, Floyd laughed and said that at this point the band was working on muscle memory by now. That being said, only a band with something special to say could click so tightly on their second tour.

So for anyone who might accuse Great Peacock of chasing a trend, see them live. This band believes in their music in a way that no fatuous top 40 song could ever hope for.

You can listen to some live tracks (not from the show) here:

And if you live in these places, you can (and should) see Great Peacock live:

Great Peacock — Official, Bandcamp