The War on Drugs Need No Qualifier at Madison Square Garden
February 01, 2022
The War on Drugs – Madison Square Garden – January 29, 2022
In the early days of the War on Drugs, the epic sweep of their sound was much-remarked-upon. It was (and is) big, grand, gnarly, atmospheric, soaring rock and roll—this was a band destined for the grandeur of arena rock and one that could really own it like the greats of the arena own it, not just tart it up with bigness and pyrotechnics. Adam Granduciel’s relentless music can own a room of this size. As he said partway through the band’s headlining stop at Madison Square Garden on Saturday, “We’ve been waiting a long time to play this show.” It almost didn’t happen (again). This time, it wasn’t COVID-19 that kept the rock show contained, it was almost the Blizzard of ’22, which had dumped well over a foot of snow on New York City in the preceding 24 hours. But Granduciel and company lit it up, delivering one of the most generous set lists of the tour thus far, filling the room with their potent, shoegaze-y, psychedelic, bombastic songs for two hours of nonstop choogle.
The touring band has evolved some over the years and now swells to seven members, including no fewer than three keyboards and multi-instrumentalists. All of it feels needed to get Granduciel’s soaring epics to soar, epically, and the first third of the show felt like the trying-on of different War on Drugs personas, from slow-’n’-folkie-building-to-fist-pump-glory (“Old Skin”) to dire flaunting (“Pain,” whose second Granduciel guitar solo kept going and going and still never felt long enough) to jittery angst (“Victim”). “I Don’t Wanna Wait,” one of many offerings from the band’s hugely rewarding 2021 album, I Don’t Live Here Anymore, leaned on its psychedelic underpinnings hard, including with haunted-sounding baritone sax. “Strangest Thing,” a crowd favorite, turned up earlier in the set than it had in previous shows on the tour, pronouncing its grandness and then backing it up. “Harmonia’s Dream” had a Petty-gone-synth thing going for it, and “Red Eyes” was its usual apocalyptic dance party, punctuated with woos and yet more slashing guitar.
Every War on Drugs song has that epic heaviness, even the quieter ones. “Your Love Is Calling My Name” came—it was another fist-pumper. “Living Proof” came—it was a folk song for a late-night-in-the-woods rave if such a thing were congruent, not a campfire (although you could imagine that, too). “I Don’t Live Here Anymore” came—it was gorgeously melodic, like stadium Dylan with a bigger, splattering sound. “Under the Pressure” came—it might have been the night’s true showpiece, building and building and building with ribbons of enveloping sound.
Was it epic? It was epic. They’re an epic band, no need to qualify it. —Chad Berndtson | @Cberndtson
Photos courtesy of Ellen Qbertplaya | @Qbertplaya
