Review: Rosanne Cash @ St. Ann’s Warehouse

For those like myself who aren’t familiar with Rosanne Cash, her last name will give the surprise way. Yes indeed, she is the daughter of Johnny “Joachim” Cash and has been relatively successful in the country music business since she released her first album in 1978 (see picture of her rocking the ‘do in 1985). She recently released her latest album “Black Cadillac” which garnered four stars from Rolling Stone, so you just *know* your parents absolutely love it. And indeed, St Ann’s Warehouse was full of them: parents, grandparents, great grandparents, all there to see Cash debut live the material off Black Cadillac.

While my friend Ashley and I were probably the youngest people in the room, that didn’t stop the excited elders from the occasional hoot and holler. (Last time Ash went to a show with me, it was Neil Diamond, the living fountain of youth). Last night, Cash’s performance was divided into three acts each precluded with a film consisting of abstracted/blurred footage narrated by Rosanne about some aspect of her life, some inspiration. As hokey as it may be to watch blurry waves crashing on the beach set an over-dramatized nostalgic reflection –with an occasional cliché- I actually found these affectingly personal. She has such a great narrating voice, I’d love for her to read me a book sometime.

During her first act, which included roughly seven songs, I spent adjusting my expectations to the realization. I expected more Country, which a capital C, which to me means upbeat songs about heartbreak, nostalgia for home, and –I assume- NASCAR. Instead, the twang was almost absent, leaving slower, sadder folk songs. These weren’t bad per se but it took me a while to adjust. And I personally prefer the hoedowns and jigs.

Once I did warm up to her style, I was very impressed. Most notably however, was that of the sound system at St Ann’s Warehouse. Holy moly! About the size of the Warsaw, the performance space seats around 630 people. It’s a long rectangular box, with tiered seating in the back, where we were located. I would expect the sound to be abysmal; echoing, muddy, whatever you’d assume for an oblong warehouse. Instead, every single note on they mandolin, guitar, violin, and every single quaver in Rosanne Cash’s voice came through crystal clear.

If you ever have an opportunity to see something there, do so. The air was a little warm and the folding chairs a bit uncomfortable, but the sound… oh my… the sound.