Rebecca Horrigan
Driving up to Paso Robles and back on a Friday night after a long work week seemed like a daunting task. I’d never been to Barrelhouse Brewing Company, but when I found out my current favorite artist Waxhatchee was playing there the night after a large stadium-style show at the Hollywood Palladium, it seemed like a no-brainer to spring for the intimate venue and open roads in lieu of LA traffic and distant seating.
As soon as I set foot in the Garden of Eden-esque Brewery brimming with picnic tables, happy families, hoppy beer, and a sweet little outdoor amphitheater, the miles on our car were officially deemed more than worth it.
Despite this show being over a month into a busy tour, Katie Crutchfield (who goes by the name Waxahatchee) and her band graced the stage with a fresh exuberance. Like the large oak tree above the crowd blessing the audience with its sprawling branches, Crutchfield stood tall with an acoustic guitar and an open heart. Her strong and regal presence wove through each song with the ease of a gentle breeze.
The Alabama native and Kansas City resident’s particular brand of Tom Petty-infused Americana was perfectly suited for the country vibes of Paso. Although it was a chilly and windy evening for an outdoor show, Crutchfield’s radiant energy coupled with the rollicking tightness of her band, quickly warmed up the crowd who swayed, bopped and sang to songs old and new.
Classics from her acclaimed 2020 album Saint Cloud, such as the fierce “Hell,” undeniably sing-along-able “Lilacs,” and catchy “Can’t Do Much,” went down easy, and I felt giddy at the opening chords of each one.
As for the venue, there was not a bad seat in the house. My friend and I couldn’t help but turn to each other after each song, smiles ablaze, amazed at our good fortune to have an up close and personal view of this Canadian-tuxedo donning denim goddess doing what she does best.
While we revelled in this smaller venue, Waxahatchee’s new sixth studio album Tiger’s Blood makes it clear that Crutchfield and her band are more than qualified for arena style shows both in terms of their music and their following.
The crowd seemed to spill forward in a wave of communal affection over her ode to a comfortable kind of love during “Right Back to It.” Its familiar sound and comforting lyrics (“You just settle in/Like a song with no end”), were beautifully punctuated with bright banjo plinking. “Lone Star Lake”’s simple and sing-song-y vibe was like a lullaby, but rather than lull you to sleep, it ushered in a wakeful feeling of peace and calm, confirming the idea that we’re meant to be exactly where we are.
Despite the song’s title, “Evil Spawn”’s propulsive, anthemic energy, couldn’t help but uplift the crowd in its soaring wings.
At the show’s end, although we had a long drive home, we were energized by Crutchfield’s stunning performance. Confronted with the road ahead, we couldn’t help but internalize “Evil Spawn”’s reassuring choral refrain, “There ain’t nothing to it, babe.”
