Royal Oak, Mi.
Wednesday, March 28 2001
review by Mitch Phillips
The Invitation
A month and a half prior to my mid-week arrival I received an invitation from Noreen Novrocki, asking if I’d come see her alt/country/roots sextet, The Wrenfields. I received a three-song EP in the mail with the usual promotional materials and a nice e-mail complimenting my past work. (Sly move - always appeal to the writer’s ego when trying to get press. ) She even offered to pay for my drinks. (Very sly move - especially if you know the writer has a predilection for liquor but only a budget for beer.) I’d already agreed to cover the show, even if I couldn’t admit to the reasons. But then I played the EP.
Then I played it again.
And again.
In fact, I played it so much I destroyed the disk. It won’t even cue-up anymore. I’m going to miss it terribly until the full-length CD comes out sometime this summer (so if you’re reading this Noreen, I really need an advanced copy of the full-length CD- or two at the rate I’m going through them).
I didn’t need any other excuse to see this band on a “work night.” after hearing track two, “21st Century Pioneer.” This heavy-hearted ballad that illustrates the singer’s reminiscent self-realizations is by far the Best Song I’ve Heard This Year. All three songs are different, well written, well performed and flawlessly self-produced. I couldn’t miss this show, even though I knew it meant a bleery-eyed morning at work the next day.
Hell Week
Now, workin’ folk are convinced that if you go to a bar on a Wednesday night one of three things are true: 1. You’re under 25, in which case you’re still indestructible after ten shots of Cuervo, one bad sexual experience and two hours of sleep ; 2. You’re supposed to be “working late,” not trying to impress that little piece from the office with your hip selection of restaurants; Or 3. you’ve got a serious drinking problem and you should be sipping bad coffee and chain smoking at the local chapter of “Friends of Bill W.” Nobody thinks to ask if you’re a musician or journalist because nobody in the 9 to 5 world to thinks you exist between those hours.
But Memphis Smoke has built-in culpable deniability for the avid club hound with a real job; it happens to be a first-rate restaurant with live music. Nobody will shame you for going to a great restaurant, provided you arrive early enough. So I shouldn’t have been too surprised to find the place packed with a standing-room only crowd at 8:30 on a Wednesday night. This is Royal Oak after all.
Considering the week I had, I shouldn’t have been there at all; My daughter came down with the flu on Monday; I had a job interview on Tuesday; My current job had me stressed-out; I got in nasty e-mail battle with one of the writers and my wife had been off work sick for three days and still didn’t feel any better. I was having a hard time generating any enthusiasm for this show and I wondered if my mood would color the review unfavorably. But I not only felt obligated to see this show, I felt compelled. So here I was, with my screwed-up priorities and all, kissing the ice in my second drink.
Painted Smiles and Crocodiles
When you’re a working musician who meets thousands of people every year, each wanting a piece of you for one reason or another and most of whom are shit-faced, it can be hard to twist a sincere smile on your face when you’re approached by a fan. I remember having that problem when I played-out and now I was getting the good-mannered smiley treatment right back from Wrenfield keyboardist, David Berriman. As I introduced myself I got the, ‘Who are you? And what the fuck do you want?’ feeling as he brushed me off to prepare for the show.
It was my own fault. I couldn’t keep from gushing over “21st Century Pioneer” and he didn’t have much time before he went on. And what did I expect really? Gee Mr. Phillips we’re so glad you could make it. We really couldn't go on without the support of fans like you and Michiganbands.com. Can I make you dinner, get you a cool drink, how ‘bout a date? Now sit the fuck down and let me prepare already. I really have to stop testifying to bands when I’m impressed with their music.
I sat the fuck down, managing to get the last and worst seat in the house . I was ok with that. Par for the week really.
The Set
Some cat in a flaming red sports coat and sunglasses who called himself “Mr. B” introduced the band and directed the crowds attention to a table behind me where, for the simple act of joining their mailing list, you could get your very own raffle ticket that might win you a 1963 Custom Fleetwood Limousine . The sleek, silver limo from another era, which was parked just outside the window on Main Street where it could draw the most attention, bear The Wrenfields name on the back quarter panels and long blue flames along both sides. Matt O’Bryan, rhythm guitarist for the Wrenfielfds and boyfriend to Novrocki, is a recent leukemia survivor and the band, to honor their good fortune, are planning to donate the proceeds from the raffle to The Leukemia Research Foundation sometime at the end of this summer.
Appropriately, the band opened with “Rise Above,” an optimistic song about overcoming life’s obstacles that opens their self-titled EP. I got a jolt of pleasant familiarity from this song as Drummer John Pyro (who co-wrote the song with guitarist Tom Morgan) sang lead. I was a bit disappointed the slide guitar was missing from the live version because it really lends it a rootsy edge. But I still enjoyed it if for it’s great hook and weighty significance. Rise Above, like the other two songs on the EP, is a viable single that I hope someday emerges from the commercial muck.
I ducked down in front of the band to snap some pictures with my old Konica, despite the lens-envy I suffered; some guy with a wide angle, telescoping monster of a camera with what looked like aircraft lights mounted on top of if blocked his shots from the comfort of his front-row seat while I ducked and dodged on the dance floor, nearly having to stick my little 50mm lens in Novrocki’s face to get one off. I prayed their would be something usable on the roll.
By the third cut people started paying attention; they turned away from their own conversations and started to watch the stage with interest. The band nailed a cover of Sheryl Crow’s “Run Baby Run” and I think people began to understand. The Wrenfields weren’t so much about alt/country music as they are about the kind of music you’d like to hear while being driven in your ‘63 Custom Limo on a two-lane highway while watching the country pass by your tinted windows (a fantasy I’d like to fulfill while listening to this band). There was no southern twang in the music to commiserate with you while you cried in your beer, but a down-to-earth understanding and appreciation for the finer points of contemporary American music shared between the band members and the audience via song. The Wrenfields are a Wednesday Night Music Club, if you will.
Sins of the Trade
Though some of the The Wrenfields covers were delightfully obscure (e.g. Bob Dylan’s “Mississippi” and , “Wichita” by The Jayhawks - a band some feel is the most underrated act ever), there were a couple of holdovers from their days as club bands (The Miracleberries, Killer Flamingos) that weren’t flattering to their newly emerging image as contenders in the Big Game.
Now, any Beatles song is better than no Beatles song to me, but their version of, “I’ve got a feeling” was too tepid and suburban for my taste, borrowing none of the gut-wrenching angst McCartney unleashed in the original. I understand a band must make a cover their own, but I have rules about this. Either you match the quality and passion of the original or you change the song in such a way (i.e. tempo, time signature or key) that, somehow, it seems better than you remember it. It would be pretty tough to improve on a Beatles song, so I wanted to see Novrocki let loose on this cut like the original, tearing the mike from the stand, screaming in emotional agony, then finally collapsing at the end of the phrase.
But had she matched McCartney’s passion - she would have been been decidedly out of character for this band - or at least for the overall vibe of their set. I’d have rather heard them do The Beatles “Two of Us” or perhaps McCartney’s “Back Seat of My Car” off his now obscure RAM album because they’ve both got that country-crusing ambiance The Wrenfields are so good at putting across. But again, any Beatles song is better than. . .
A goofy cover of Eddie Rabbit’s “Drivin my life away” - it may have had the yuppies gleaming while they clapped in time with this dinner-crowd pleaser, but it elicited a deep groan from this writer. I just have a real hard time being this giddy - ever.
Grand Funk’s “Bad time for being in love, ” a staple right out of the bowling-alley bar, might as well have ben Tommy Two-Tones’’ “Jenny Jenny” (‘867-5309’) for how misplaced this tune seemed to be in their set. The band rushed through this number, ending it mercifully fast.
Novrocki, with her sweet and refreshingly modest stage presence, made the mistake of apologizing to the audience for playing their originals. That modest temptation is better ignored when making the transition from competent cover band to serious artists. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that people want to hear what you’ve created, but you can’t afford to show any self-doubt when confronting an audience with your art. I believe The Wrenfields have greatness in them whether they are yet aware of it or not. That greatness was about to reveal itself again.
All Sins Forgiven
When Novrocki sang,”The grass is pretty green from this angle,” a shiver of recognition shot up my spinal cord, causing the muscles in my face to stretch my lips into an uncontrollable smile and the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I crouched in front of the stage with my camera, poised to shoot, but decided I didn’t want to miss a second of this song through the viewfinder. I wanted the full, chilling effect.
The Wrenfields live performance of “21st Century Pioneer” (co-written by Novrocki and Guitarist Tom Morgan) made the Wednesday night drunk and Thursday work hangover so worth the trip I forgave them any sins they committed in the act of appeasing restaurant patrons. The sincerity of this truly great song was evident in the sudden passion displayed by each band member as they brought the song to it’s climactic conclusion.
I really can’t say enough about “21st Century Pioneer” because it’s so rare a gem like this comes along. I can only try to convince you to seek it out yourself, find a long stretch of highway to remind you again of your life’s possibilities, then push play and lose yourself in it’s sweet sentiment.
I snapped out of my musical daydream when The Wrenfields popped off “Patchouli Train,” the frolicsome third cut off their debut EP (co-written by rhythm guitarist Matt O’Bryan and Novrocki). Ever since I’d first heard this song I wondered what the hell a Patchouli Train was. So, like any good writing geek, I consulted my trusty Webster’s and found: patch/ou-li (pe choo lee)1. An East Indian mint that yields a heavy, dark-brown, fragrant oil. 2. A perfume made from this oil. But sometimes writing geeks should forgo their usual sources and just consult their local hippies. It seems a patchouli train is a car you pass that emanates the familiar odor of marijuana. When Noreen Novrocki let me in on this little fact I blushed for my naivete´.
Measuring Success
By all accounts, The Wrenfields performance at Memphis Smoke was a success: A success for the band because they landed a revolving five-week gig at Memphis Smoke and and were selected as this year’s band for the Grosse Isle Yacht Club opening: A success for the bar because they filled an empty slot in their calendar with a capable band; and a success for me and the rest of the patrons because we witnessed the live performance of some great songs - The Wrenfield originals. I hope, for all our sake, that The Wrenfields move quickly from light dinner entertainment to headlining hit-makers because I think they have it in them.
But the real success of the evening wasn’t the profit, or potential profit either the band or bar might enjoy in the future. The real success was that The Wrenfields touched at least one person in this room in a very personal way with one of their songs - and that one person was fortunate enough to share his gratitude with the creators. This is true success in the creation of original music.
Mitch Phillips
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