Jessica Oni
Staff Writer
The comfy, log cabin-inspired interior of the Sunset House of Blues slowly came to a whisper Monday night, as a pair of heavy royal blue curtains were pulled back in increments to reveal a tiny black piano.
A spotlight zeroed in on the man seated at the piano, 25-year-old Jason Wade, lead singer and guitarist of the mellow Los Angeles-based rock band, Lifehouse. The stunned silence was broken as the band went into a rendition of “Chapter One,” a song off their third album Lifehouse, which was released in April 2005.
The calming simplicity of the piano coupled with the cozy, family vacation-like atmosphere accentuated the homecoming theme that the band stuck with for the rest of the night. A native of the Los Angeles area, Wade continuously remarked how nice it was to be home.
“I think I know half the people here,” he said. “You didn’t all have to come.”
The stage setup was bare, simple, and casual: a large black flag decorated with the band’s name the only visible adornment.
The band was dressed casually as well in rock band staples: Converse All-stars, jeans and T-shirts.
Perhaps it was the familiarity of the environment that made Lifehouse more daring that night than most of their fans are accustomed. The opening song was not the only time Wade experimented with the piano, which he later claimed was “not [his] first … second … or third instrument.”
More talkative than usual, Wade joked around between songs, as though he were having a continuous one-on-one conversation with the entire audience, part musical and part verbal.
At one point, he made a reference to Rick Woolsteinhulme, the band’s drummer, saying “It seems like just yesterday when I found Rick on Third Street Promenade.”
Before beginning “Sick Cycle Carousel,” the second single from the band’s first album, “No Name Face,” Wade commented on writing the song years earlier while living off of Malibu Canyon Road, near Agoura. A chunk of the audience yelled and waved their hands at this shout-out to their home territory.
Later on, the rest of the band exited the stage as Wade began what appeared to be a guitar solo, a slow rendition of the band’s famous first hit “Hanging By A Moment.”
Suddenly he stopped.
“You’ve heard that one plenty of times,” he said.
The audience urged him on with their cheers, but he laughed and ditched the guitar, reclaiming the tiny black piano for a second time and telling the crowd that he had been “taking piano lessons.”
He then went into a slow, blues-inspired performance of a new song. Each key he stuck was soft and simple, while his famously coarse and husky voice soared from lyric to lyric.
Alone on stage, Wade looked more comfortable than ever. He became one with his environment, his entirely black clothes blending in with the dark trio of piano, stage and backdrop.
As the rest of the band rejoined him, Wade introduced drummer Woolsteinhulme, as well as the band’s two newest members, Canadian-born Bryce Soderburg on guitar and Australian native Ben Carey on bass.
Woolsteinhulme then ditched his drums for a tambourine as Soderburg traded his guitar for a wooden shaker, joining Wade center stage for a stunning performance of “Just Another Name,” an upbeat track from the band’s second album, Stanley Climbfall.
Wade’s attitude shifted from playful to introspective as he prepared to perform one of his more personal songs, “Everything.” His eyes closed and his head shook slightly, yet once he began to sing, his voice never broke.
After a brief exit, the band rejoined the audience for an encore, beginning with a performance of “You and Me,” a popular single from their newest disc. Most of the audience sang along to this one, as Wade addressed the crowd one last time saying, “it’s great to be back home.”
The band then entered into its final song of the night, “Spin” another audience favorite. The catchy track offered a perfect conclusion to the homey feel of the entire night, ending with the loud, grungy sound of guitars and the powerful pounding of the drums until both the song and night came to a close.
The crowd rattled within the confines of the log cabin environment as the band blew kisses and exited the stage.
The heavy blue curtains were pulled closed once again, and the crowd turned into each other to discuss the show, slowly disintegrating toward the exit doors.
As the crowd clustered out of the building, the remnants of the unusually experimental and memorably personal night erupted on their faces; they recalled and reflected on the comfort of various homecomings of their own.
01-19-2006
