Monday's Earful: A.A. Bondy @ The Bowery Ballroom

By: David Schultz

There’s no better barometer of an artist’s growing popularity than gauging the size of the crowd upon every return visit. For A.A. Bondy, the lovably moody and irascible Alabama born singer-songwriter, his fans have gone from mingling with those of the Cold War Kids, Alejandro Escovedo and Bon Iver to finally getting a room of their own as Bondy matured into a headliner. Having outgrown the intimate Mercury Lounge, which he uncomfortably packed to capacity on his last visit to New York City at the start of his tour, the logical next step was to move into the Bowery Ballroom.

Marking the close of a three month long stretch of shows that took him all over the globe, Bondy’s return trip to Manhattan saw him presenting his material in a much different light. Giving the sparse arrangements found on When The Devil’s Loose, his recently released sophomore effort, and American Hearts, his phenomenal solo debut, a complete overhaul, Bondy washed them in feedback and his own Southern attitude. More than ornamental dressing, the accompanying pedal steel, keyboards and drums fleshed out the foreboding sentiment that lurks within the interstices of Bondy’s songs like an unearthly specter. The weightier delivery enhanced the David Lynchian quality of “Mightiest Of Guns” and “I Can See The Pines Are Dancing” and by adding additional drums and trombone to “I Killed Myself When I Was Young,” Bondy transformed the coda into an avant-garde frenzy. In contrast, during a captivating interlude that including a reworking of “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” and a straightforward recitation of “My Funny Valentine,” Bondy recaptured the bleak emotionalism that runs through his recordings.

Singers that open themselves up in the studio usually have a close rapport with their audience; their live shows being more akin to an intimate gathering of friends. Bondy poetically sings of disaffected feelings, compassion and spiritual longing incorporating Book of Revelations imagery and enigmatic metaphors. His stage demeanor though, sometimes belies the fragility found within his lyrics, Bondy’s gruff though amiable Southern attitude never far from the surface. In introducing “Oh The Vampyre,” Bondy made his views on the country’s fascination with the vampire craze quite clear – “Fuck Twilight” summing it up succinctly – and he made a similar though superficial proclamation relating to anyone standing between the Crimson Tide and an NCAA title. No bleeding heart, his often sarcastic prefaces show a slight detachment from the insightful subject matter but in acknowledging his philosophical foils, he makes clear the battles he’s fighting.