Concert Review: Gregory Alan Isakov @ The Met

The fourth song that Gregory Alan Isakov performed, his famous hit “Big Black Car”, was overlaid with sounds of wind howling and snow falling in desolate lands. It takes several minutes for Isakov’s gentle acoustic guitar to finally come into play, but until then, the audience was left to rest in this immensely lonely atmosphere. The background visuals showed a dark outline of a snowy field, reminiscent of Isakov’s home in the icy Rocky Mountains of Colorado, and for a few moments, it felt like listening to a close friend serenade you while you wait out a snowstorm.

The result was a deeply intimate concert, one in which the line between artist and audience slowly thinned to create a powerful, communal experience.

The Met, looking as beautiful as always.

Going into last week’s concert, Gregory Alan Isakov was already one of my favorite contemporary folk singers. Whenever I listen to his music, I feel reminded of some of my favorite classic folk singers that I grew up loving. There are shades of Nick Drake and Leonard Cohen in Isakov’s writing; he writes very tender, personal music that is often stripped-back instrumentally. My favorite example of this is his 2009 album “This Empty Northern Hemisphere”, a gently written folk record that distills contemporary folk music to its quietest roots, with most songs featuring just an acoustic guitar and an array of strings. Ironic as it may be, listening to Gregory Alan Isakov feels like wearing a warm jacket on a cold winter’s morning, and I was thrilled to see how this intimacy translated to a live concert.

“This Empty Northern Hemisphere”, 2009.

Compared to what I’ve heard of his other concerts, Gregory Alan Isakov’s show at the Met was even more stripped-back than its source material, which is saying something. Isakov’s live band, for the most part, did not join him on stage, and all that was on stage was a stand of acoustic guitars, a grand piano, and a lightly-luminated globe that changed colors with the background visuals (which was one of my favorite aspects of the performance, as stupid as it sounds).

As a longtime fan of his music, I think my familiarity with most of the songs on Isakov’s setlist heightened my enjoyment of the performance. It was such a fun exercise to see how he tweaked certain songs from their original recordings to create more ambient versions. His performance of “San Luis” was especially memorable, an already quiet folk song made even more beautiful by Isakov’s delicate fingerpicking. By far the most magical song, for me, was his live rendition of “Words”, where the background visuals dimmed to a gloomy haze while he beautifully sang, “Please read them by the light of the moon”. I found myself getting teary-eyed at these songs because of the delicacy and care that went into writing them.

View of the stage

And Gregory Alan Isakov’s immense passion for folk music oozed from every interaction he had with the crowd. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a concert where a musician talked to the audience as much as Isakov did. He told the audience stories about how songs came to be written, as well as how his rise to fame came about. As in his songs, Isakov is a phenomenal storyteller, finding ways to turn the most mundane aspects of life into poetic reflections.

Two other musicians appeared on stage with Isakov: his bandmate and close friend, Steve Varney, and his brother Ilan. From the level of chemistry these three had, I wouldn’t have been surprised if they said they’d forgotten they were playing in front of an audience. They told jokes, riffed off one another, and when it was time to perform, they managed to create something beautiful. In my eyes, this was the crown jewel of the performance: seeing so much camaraderie between talented musicians and a captivated audience, culminating in a night of serenely beautiful folk music.

Thank you to LiveNation for this incredible opportunity to see such an immensely talented performer, and as always, for the chance to write about why I love music.