words by James Taylor
Former Million Dead frontman Frank Turner is quickly becoming a household name in the UK, his latest full-length Poetry of the Deed breaking into the Top 40 last year on the strength of perfect pop anthems like “Isabel” and “The Road.” By the end of this year, the same will likely be true on this side of the pond as well. Turner has toured the US a number of times, most recently as part of the Revival Tour alongside contemporaries Chuck Ragan (Hot Water Music) and Jim Ward (Sparta, At the Drive-in). The man clearly loves Austin – a photo from a surprise SXSW show at Plush last year made it’s way onto the Deed album artwork, and the man sports a Texas tattoo on his bicep.
As evidenced by the turnout, epic sing-a-longs and show-hugging this past Tuesday, Austin loves Frank back. Turner returned to Texas, for the first time with his full band in tow, Austin’s one-off show serving as a warm up for Turner and Co.’s upcoming stint opening for Celtic punks Flogging Molly.
Austin’s Broken Gold opened the night with their Replacements style pop-punk, Riverboat Gambler Ian MacDougall’s vocals sounding sour and sore as ever. No insult intended – for Broken Gold’s sound MacDougall’s vocals are a perfect match. Possessed by Paul James followed Gold with his one-man-band brand of foot stomping honky tonk. PPJ (real name: Konrad Wert) and Turner became acquainted this past fall on the aforementioned Revival Tour. Not surprisingly Turner joined Wert on stage for one song.
Having seen Frank Turner play several times by himself, it was definitely a treat to see him with his full band, finally. All are accomplished musicians, but Matt Nasir’s organ shined above all. It truly felt like seeing Frank for the first time as classic Turner tracks like “Phosynthesis,” “I Knew Prufrock…” and “Long Live the Queen” sounded more full and refined but no less impassioned. As expected, Turner’s set drew heavily from the anthemic Poetry of the Deed – “Sons of Liberty,” “Try This At Home,” and “Faithful Son” swelled to epic proportions in the small(ish) confines of Emos inside stage.
Frank Turner has a unique gift, an ability to make astute observations about all things normal. He sings songs about singing songs, laments the toil of texting your friends to tell them about your show tomorrow night, or waking up on some ones couch and having to dig up change for the bus fare home. And all without sounding trite or put-on. When he sings “there’s no such thing as rockstars there’s just people who play music – and some of them are just like us and some of them are dicks” you know he means it. He’s just like you – when he invites a girl from the audience on stage to play harmonica (surprisingly well), as he pounds Lonestar and cheap whiskey, and the whole crowd sings his every word back to him – so “come on folks and try this at home.”
