Dashboard Confessional took the Fieldhouse in front of a packed crowd ready to sing along
By Dan Long
Staff Writer
It was definitely the girls running in, holding hands and tripping that hinted to me that this time around Dashboard Confessional was going to be a different experience. Since I began listening to the music a year ago, the songs that seemed to solidify all my bad times into words had taken hold of a larger fan base, been plastered across media, and won MTV2’s Best Video Award. But something more had changed about front man Chris Carrabba than just fans and media attention when he came to Pepperdine.
It began when I realized a very experienced sound crew can do a lot with the inside of a large cube, because the sound of local opening band Aria Decline was incredible, as they played songs familiar to some, new to others. The set displayed their variation from the loud to soft, harmony with grunge/ska/punk style, catching the attention of seasoned vets and rookies alike.
“It was so awesome to walk out to cheers, with people pumped to hear you,” Aria Decline guitarist and back-up vocalist Jack Parmelee said.
The second local opening band, Black Molly, caught those of us who had never heard them before by surprise. The band’s sound enveloped contemporary vocals and distortion mixed with guitar solos with a classic rock sound. Though of a different style than Aria Decline, Black Molly caught the attention and love of many in the crowd, receiving an overall good vibe from a mob of people that seemed to sweat their desire to hear Dashboard Confessional.
“It’s comforting when you look out in the crowd and they’re not all bored out of their minds,” lead guitarist Matt Jewett said.
But the time was upon us to take up our miseries in life and belt them out in choral chant as Dashboard Confessional took the stage like the opener to a basketball game, building to that one moment when the star player steps on the court. First there was Johnny Lefler on the keyboard and guitar, filling the air with echoing tones under a purple light. Second came Scott “Scooter” Shoenbeck on the bass, dropping in the lower notes to fill in the space. Next was Mike Marsh on the drums, kicking out a rhythm to the growing scream waiting to be released by every onlooker.
Then appeared Chris Carrabba, who walked across the low lit stage to a crew member holding out his guitar as if it were Excalibur. It was an exciting introduction, especially after two great opening bands, however the Dashboard sound was different to me. The grand introduction seemed contrary to the initial downbeat note that starts off Dashboard’s newest LP, “The Places You Have Come to Fear the Most.”
A year ago I witnessed Carrabba come out alone on stage with an
acoustic guitar. Captured under a single spotlight, the blackness around him seemed to be the world he sang of trapping him into this one light of hope, his music. His pain took more of the stage than he did.
This time around, though, Carrabba came onto the stage not a fallen victim to tragedies, but the victorious hero who fights the good fight. That uniquely Carrabba-esque sound, drunk in the rain of dark clouds, was now sobered as a fog that had lifted. Carrabba seemed to be moving into a whole new light, accompanied with the uplifting foot soldiers backing him up instrumentally. Only two songs were played without bass and drums.
The music relayed a message that is positively progressing, a concept captured when they finished with “Hands Down,” a regular closer for the band. This time around the song did not finish as it does on the “So Impossible EP.” The band continued in a guitar solo that led into Carrabba singing a new verse, a compilation of lyrics throughout his career.
“And I admire Your strength/You keep us going on,” are words he sang in his former group, Further Seems Forever, under the Christian label Tooth and Nail. From there he continued through lines back to the closing words from “Hands Down.” He stepped away from the microphone, the crowd screamed, “And you kissed me, like you meant it,” and a new Carrabba was as clear as ever.
I believe it is this novel man, that opens a door to joy for those his music touches. It connects to listeners’ pain, getting the ball rolling so that eventually sorrow is overcome. Dashboard Confessional’s sound changed, but it’s only for the amelioration of the man that the music is about.
November 07, 2002
