My homies, the Fortunate Suns, recently hooked me up with the raw recordings from a live show they did back in February. We got to talking about it, and an idea for an article bloomed: an analysis of the show. Now the jam scene is all about the live shows; it's the bread and butter of the whole outfit, so a review of the performance just seems obvious. What I'm going to do is try to put you in the head of a dirty hippie at a jam show and walk you through the gig from a freak's perspective. Let me set the scene. You just rocked up to the venue. You've got your yellow tweed suit jacket on with your bell-bottoms and your snakeskin boots. You snagged yourself a primo spot in the pit, which is good because the ayahuasca you smoked before you came in is digging in and making things a little rattlesnakey. You take a rip off your plastic cup of well rum as the band steps out on stage. Queue the first tune.
Things kick off with a funky instrumental piece. It’s a groovy jam that sets the mood and gets the crowd engaged with what’s going on on stage. The musical equivalent of the lights flashing before a play begins, it says, "Hey, look over here, dumb nuts; it’s starting.” It’s a play between the bass and guitar that goes on for about a minute before the guitar makes a sudden cry and then launches into the opening riff of “River,” one of the tracks off the band's debut EP, “Last Train Out.” “River” rocks just as hard live as it does in the studio. It’s a bumpy, classic rock-inspired tune that is reminiscent of the likes of Chuck Berry and Eddie Floyd. The immediate move from funk to rock is a powerful one that gives you little time to catch your breath. One minute you’re feeling the bass, and the next you’re slapped in the face with some good old rock ‘n’ roll.
As you’re getting acclimated to the beat and flow of “River,” things begin to make a shift. It’s subtle, something you don’t pick up on until it’s already upon you, like a creeping cottonmouth in a muddy creek with a mouthful of venom just for you. Things go from that jaunty, light-hearted rock to something much heavier. The keys come in in a serious way, and the guitar drops down to a growl. This screaming rendition of “Ramblin’ Girl” is more akin to the proto-metal of the ‘70s. It’s something wild and vicious. The kind of thing that makes you want to stomp your feet and assault the nearest pig.
The wailing goes on and on until you lose yourself in it, then things come to a screeching halt. You have just enough time to hear your own heartbeat pounding in your ears before the Fortunate Suns kick into “I Know I Don’t.” This is a chance for you to catch your breath. Up to this point, you’ve been up to your neck in tasty jams, so you need a minute to reorient yourself. Something to cleanse your palette before it’s overloaded with too much hard rock. This one is done as a sort of southern rock number, almost testimonial if you feel so inclined, and I personally do. It’s all weeping and woes until about two-thirds of the way through, where you hit an instrumental section. This is a tasteful back and forth between the keys and the guitar that just screams Southern Gothic.
All of this swells to a crescendo where the band breaks from “I Know I Don’t” into “Black Magic Mama.” You’re right back into the hard rock with this one; no time to try to figure out where it’s going, you’re being dragged along for the ride. This tune also gives the air of proto-metal, but not quite in the same vein as “Ramblin’ Girl.” Think less Deep Purple and more “Zeppelin II” era Led Zeppelin. It’s all pounding drums, aching vocals, meaty bass, and this absolutely nasty riff—a sort of circling thing that hooks you, then wraps itself back around to its start in a loop, never letting you get more than a beat away before it pulls you back in.
All of this explodes into a sinister breakdown where all hell breaks loose. This is the sort of thing that pushes you from a mild trip into a full-on breakthrough, from a fun time staring at the pretty colors to falling down the side of a great pillar made of human skulls refracting shafts of terrible neon light. It pounds and pounds, getting heavier and heavier until you’re not sure you can take any more, and then it forces you to take another dose. When you’re road-worn and ragged, it finally comes to a crashing end, giving you the sort of whiplash that can only otherwise be attained by being powerslammed into an oak tree by a full-grown bull moose.
Now you’re standing there, used up and ready to go down, but there’s one more song left before things are done. Here we have “Midnight Special,” a chilled-out rock tune not too dissimilar to “River.” This is by far the most relaxed song of the whole set. It’s a gentle mix of everything you love about rock ‘n’ roll: your plucking guitars, your train-beat drums, a splash of bass, and warm vocals. It eases you into the end of the show, letting you down gently from the lofty mountains of rock you just ascended. I think the similarity to “River” also adds something poetic to this final track. It makes the show feel circular in a way, like we ended up right back where we started; maybe we never even left in the first place. The band delivers another show-stopping performance, wraps it up with a goodbye, and that’s it. Curtain drop.
“Live at the Amsterdam” is something that warms my heart to hear. To listen to how these guys have grown in the year since we met them with “Last Train Out” is really something special. The addition of their bassist, Henry, is a welcome one that makes the sound all the more powerful and creates a fullness that wasn’t there before. When speaking with the band, they told me that this performance was the highlight of their year, and I can see why. It’s positively electrifying, a runaway spark that I’m sorry to have missed seeing in person. The album doesn’t drop until April 4th, that is, except for this rendition of "River," which comes out on the 20th of this month, so for the time being you’re just going to have to take my word for how good it is, but if that won’t do for you, you can always catch the band at one of their shows to see what it is I’m raving about for yourself. In the meantime, I would like to leave with this little message from the Fortunate Suns to all of you. “Just thank you. We’re all so grateful for everyone who has been a part of the Fortunate Suns’ first year and their continued support. We’re excited to keep this train rolling! Love, Andy, Austin, Henry, and Ty."
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