Night One
On a Thursday night in December, arriving following a long drive from Baltimore, I walked into the Boot and Saddle, its dim wooden interiors brightened by colorful holiday lights. Settling in at the bar, I hear soundcheck ending in the back of the club – “Keys” in all its emotive glory – ordering Philly beers and a sandwich, notebook in hand.
Boot & Saddle wears charm on its walls, covered with art for sale, posters of past shows, and the kind of décor that screams spaghetti westerns. Rope and lights hang above the bar, mirrors brightening and enlarging the place. Nearly nobody has arrived yet: bartenders, the merch guy, another photographer. Gradually, they’ll sift through the door, under the neon sign.
Tim Showalter walks through the double doors at the back of bar. He stops at the merch to talk with his friend, then slipping behind the table to unhook a painting of a tiger from the wall, donated following a previous visit to Boot & Saddle.
This year marked the 5th annual Winter Classic for Tim, who plays under the moniker Strand of Oaks. He plays a series of shows in his adopted hometown of Philly, all essentially stripped – sometimes solo, sometimes with his friends who happen to play that night. Last year, this included Carl Broemel and Joe Pug. This year, the cast of friends is a little different, but the result is the same: magic.
As the bar fills, Tim welcomes those he knows, readily doling out hugs, smiles, and stories. After his wife arrives, and when the crowd thickens, he disappears downstairs for awhile.
The doors to the back opened. Behind those doors is a skinny room, tin and other tiles on the walls and ceiling, a tiny soundbooth nestled in the corner. The audience slowly congregates, voices rising as the time draws closer.
Mike Brenner, or Slo-Mo – the famed lapsteel player who rode the stage with Jason Molina for years – took to the stage for an improvisational set, playing about fifteen minutes. the melody loped and rose like a pack of wolves across a hilly terrain. Mike learned he’d play only a little bit before the doors opened, comfortably settling into his role. He left his lapsteel onstage, later joining Tim for most of his set.
Tim danced through the crowd, entering the stage in all black, face shrouded by a cowboy hat, jumping straight into “Wild and Willing”, a song I last heard a Union Transfer in May, a one-take tune that almost never made the record and somehow explains Eraserland’s emotional trajectory, its post-Hard Love perspective. At Boot & Saddle, it took on a different life: it felt more like Tim confessing to the audience that he was here, playing these songs, for all of us in the audience; as though maybe entreating us to listen, to engage in this wild connection with him, with each other.
He didn’t need to entreat us. We were all there because of his songs.
Throughout the night, Tim smiled often, thanked the audience for welcoming him home (even though he’s moved), and delivered deadpan Midwestern humor about talking too much, about being his own hype man. Ultimately, the songs acted as his hype.
Mike Brenner joined him onstage, and Tim followed “Wild and Willing” with “Same Emotions” and “Shut In”, two standouts from HEAL, the latter launching the crowd into a heavy and loud singalong, its hope balanced on a razor’s edge. Next came an audible – “Moon Landing” replacing “Sleeping Pills” (both beautiful songs fit for the Oakheads in the audience).
At the end of “Moon Landing”, Tim said the following song would be for his wife, calling for Sue to “Woo!” A chorus of “Woos” met him, but finally, from the back, came the right one; Tim lit up like her voice was a switch, high-beaming a smile to brighten any night. In his joy, he shared that maybe the song had some prophecy to it, some prediction about the change he and Sue needed – they’ve recently moved to Austin, TX, though Philly is still home to them – and settled into “Keys”.
A pair of incredibly choice covers accentuated the setlist – “Dirt” by Phish (Tim is a massive fan) and “Whip Poor Will” by Songs:Ohia. “Dirt” functioned as almost a moment of unrestrained euphoria – much like a Phish show – and “Whip Poor Will” as a moment replete with tender mourning, especially as Mike Brenner rippled through the song’s trademark lapsteel. He told the audience how he discovered Electric Magnolia Co. in a small record store, maybe 20 years old, and first fell in love with that voice, that sound, those songs, adding that he couldn’t believe he’d ever have the privilege to play with Mike Brenner. Appropriately, they played “JM” immediately after “Whip Poor Will”.
Tim introduced a new song on the night – indeed, he did this each night of the Winter Classic – one I’m eager to hear again, its reminders that we’re all stardust a subtle rejoinder to the hate so often dominating our world.
Other songs from Eraserland certainly featured, with the exceptional “Ruby” and “Weird Ways” absolutely becoming Strand of Oaks staples. I called “Ruby” “savagely effervescent” the first time I saw it live this year, and I think this rang true again on this night, though when he sang, “Ruby, won’t you slow it down? It’s happening so fast / Ruby, won’t you pull be back? I’m living in the past”, it felt almost like Tim pulled the crowd into an embrace. He followed “Ruby” with the heartrending and cathartic “Visions” – truly a gift of a song that feels all too familiar for anyone with shadowed souls.
The night ended with “Forever Chords” – my song of the year – and “Goshen ‘97”. The audience exploded into action with “Goshen”, fists pumping and acting as a giant chorus behind Tim’s voice, especially when he sang, “I was lonely, I was having fun” and “I don’t want to start all over again”.
As with every other Winter Classic, though, he’d be back the next night, starting all over again.
Night 2
On the second night, friends in tow, we arrived early to Boot & Saddle, driving through a torrent of rain. We stepped into the bar and the wait passed much the same, Tim wandering around in a ballcap and black clothes after soundcheck, going downstairs as it becomes crowded. We stood stage left, by the stairs, talking endlessly and making friends.
Lomelda opened the night, her songs miniature sonic sculptures, or maybe snapshots of some emotional state; Hannah Read’s songs feel like a cleansing, a purging, small yet powerful things.
Tim came onstage and jumped straight into “Taking Acid and Talking to My Brother”, a standout track from Hard Love in which he expresses the truth that real life can be more unbelievable, more psychedelic than actually taking psychedelics; the only acid in this song is in the title. “Weird Ways” followed, its hopelessness hidden behind a beautiful groove and a refrain as familiar as breathing. When you see it with the band, “Weird Ways” begins with Tim strumming his guitar while singing the lonely opening line, then the band progressively joining the song. Solo – somehow – Tim still manages to create this effect, entreating the audience to join him, eliciting that same enveloping and euphoric effect, eventually issuing a sonic reminder that we are not as alone as we think we are, that others can lift us up and it’s okay to let them.
In the middle of the set, Tim unleashed a rarity, playing the Pope Killdragon standout “Last to Swim” before dipping into the noisy beauty of “JM” again. He debuted another new song, this one especially anthemic and feeling a bit like a nod to late 60s rock and roll, its refrain almost reminding me of prime Neil Young.
As with the previous night, a few choice covers punctuated the setlist, including Petty’s “Yer So Bad” (my friend Annie told us she liked Tim’s version better than the original after hearing it in the car), “Tonight, Tonight” by The Smashing Pumpkins, and the altogether special “This Must Be the Place” by The Talking Heads. Tim introduced this as his wedding song, calling out to Sue; he pulled a chair with lyrics next to him, but as he settled into the song, he never needed them.
He smiled and laughed all night again, talking about how much Philly became home. He talked about everywhere he’s lived, about the importance of change, about needing to move on. He spoke about joy, but mostly, he just embodied it. Tim played nearly everything that could be called a hit, including the song “that treads dangerously close to Coldplay territory” (“Wait for Love”), “Shut In”, “Radio Kids”, “Ruby”, and “Keys”.
The show ended much the same as night one, with “Forever Chords” the penultimate song, and the audience once more losing itself in the purifying fire of “Goshen ‘97”.
I can’t wait for Winter Classic VI.
Postscript – Tim played a third night, but I was unable to attend. Wild Pink (awesome band) opened as a duo and came onstage to play with Tim. I feel certain this show was just as special as the other two, and can confidently assert that seeing all of the Winter Classic shows is always the most correct goal.
