Son Volt @ Vic Theatre (10/15/2005)

"We're all living proof that nothing lasts."

Ten years ago Jay Farrar first sang those words on Son Volt's debut album Trace. It was a sign of a new beginning for Farrar who had just stepped away from Uncle Tupelo, the group out of Belleville, IL that Farrar, Jeff Tweedy, and Mike Heidorn steered into a realm of unexpected greatness that planted the seeds for the alt-country movement. Although Uncle Tupelo carried on after the depature of their drummer, Heidorn, in 1992, it was Farrar's decision in 1994 to end the band that resonated the loudest. The demise of the band led to the births of Son Volt and Tweedy's band Wilco.

Son Volt was Farrar's clean slate to move forward, but, by 1998, he stopped Son Volt in its tracks to concentrate on his first born child. When he resummed working on his music Farrar went solo and left Son Volt on the back burner. In 2004, news finally came that Farrar and his former bandmates--Heidorn, Jim and Dave Boquist--agreed to reactivate Son Volt, record a new album and tour. But it seemed that within a blink of the eye the reunion was wiped away. Heidorn and the Boquist brothers made Farrar's head spin when they dropped out of the picture. Farrar's lawyer, Josh Grier, shed some light on the matter in the November 2004 issue of Chicago Innerview when he said, "I don't think anybody had any oppositon to the creative side of it, but, five years later, mortgages, kids and wives can change everything."

Farrar gathered new musicians to make Son Volt possible, and the end result was the brand new album Okemah And The Melody Of Riot which was released in July. It has been a quiet return for Son Volt in 2005, and that is't much of a surprise since the band's hiatus didn't cause a sea of headline news. For the fans that packed the Vic Theatre, the reestablishment of Son Volt in today's musical landscape didn't matter as much as seeing Farrar rejuvenated by his latest material. The set list spanned over thirty songs and reached into every facet of Farrar's catalog from Uncle Tupelo, Son Volt, and solo career.

Farrar has never been known as an artist that lights up a stage. A showman he is not, but he's never sought to be a Pete Townshend (The Who) or Rick Nielsen (Cheap Trick). There was an aura about him on stage like he was a walking myth, a sole survivor of the Crusades or some storied fable. The electricity that may not appear on the surface came across loud and clear through Farrar's play that night. With his larger than life voice and a solid band put together, the new Son Volt performed as a band that had been together longer than just a few weeks on the road. After laying down five songs off the new album at the start of the show, the band opened the show wide open. "This is an old song," said Farrar, "I think it's an antique." And with that brief introduction the band dusted off "Back Into Your World" from Son Volt's second album Straightaways (1997).

Farrar flowed with each song and fed off the muscle his band supplied. There also seemed to be a rediscovery for Farrar with his past; themes about seeking for answers as a young man are the same he still asks as a man with a family. Some of the biggest questions in America today deal with Iraq. Farrar summed up his opinions on the matter with a beautiful stroke of set list work by purposefully having "Jet Pilot," a direct shot at President George W. Bush, followed by "Endless War." Neither Bush or Iraq were ever directly mentioned by Farrar. He let his songs act as his soap box and his guitar voice his protest.

As the audience in the balcony rose in volume to sing back to the band during "Tear Stained Eye," it was evident that they hadn't turned their backs on Farrar. It was that sweet moment between fans and artist where the intangible of the music revealed the special bond that doesn't seem to go away over time. Farrar blazed like a bright fire with his guitar solos ("Medication"), refreshed the past ("Windfall"), and paved the way for the future ("Afterglow 61"). During the show's finale, Farrar became almost possessed in the music as the band performed Uncle Tupelo's "Chickamauga." The sweat dripped faster off his face and his intensity grew as he marched up and down the fretboard of his electric guitar. "Solitude is where I'm bound," sang a fully charged Farrar. As he tore through his wailing solos, was he remembering his old friend and partner Jeff Tweedy whom he walked away from all those years ago? Or was he thinking of his former Son Volt partners that left him to carry on the band? Stepping off the stage of the Vic Theatre after the last note Farrar gave an appreciative wave to the audience who stood on their feet cheering and applauding.

The band performed all of Okemah And The Melody Of Riot in front of a massive back drop of the album's cover hanging from the rafters. Promotional move? Sure. It was an evening to reintroduce people to Son Volt and remind them of the album. But for Farrar it was a statement to his fans that he's just as proud of his new songs as he is of his past Son Volt work; work that some may argue is still his best (Trace is Son Volt's best selling album to date). History has shown that Son Volt was the favorite to rise to stardom after Uncle Tupelo. Instead, Tweedy and Wilco have become that which industry insiders thought Son Volt and Farrar would be by now: commercially successful. Farrar may be destined to go it alone on his musical journey but it seems there will always be a crowd willing and waiting to hear what he has to say next. There is no Son Volt without Jay Farrar.

All Photos By: Chris Castaneda