Concert Review: Parker Millsap Mesmerizes Bowery
It was a very quiet night at Bowery Ballroom and that felt strange, in part, because the quietness was due to mesmerization. Parker Millsap could do no wrong to his crowd, and it was the first time silence fueled a fandom. For them, every joke landed, every chord riffed, and Parker Millsap was the “ish.”
Vocally, Millsap feels like a 70s blues singer; singing to the loneliness of never quiet finding that “good woman” and “better day.” Much like in my Neal Francis review, some singers thrive off of how they embody a concept of an era or a location. Millsap embodied 1970s Nashville, where Lynyrd Skynyrd could grab some buttered biscuits and beer on their way to Sweet Home Alabama. Frankly, the Southern, classic rock vibes stood out in the New York night that is often defined by some level of dance. Yet, on that night, not even movement stirred.
Again, I have never seen people so excitedly still for one man. It was as if moths never flew to the flame as much as stood before it: acting like it was their celestial bonfire. While there were a few moments of friendly back and forth and ribbing between him and the band, for the most part, the show was hyper-focused on make every song fill the room like a wild pack of balloons and boars: simultaneously guttural and joyous. Each was a seasoned musician that understood how to milk their instrument for every ounce of music it could have. Hence, the quietness was the greatest sign of respect for Parker and co; they did not want anything, including themselves, to interrupt what they felt was their sonic break from life. Now, I can respect that. For More Information On Parker Millsap Click Here.
