A Victorious Return of the Elusive Ryan Adams

Ryan Adams –The Academy of Music

Since being exposed to Ryan Adams, I have revered him as a musical genius.  It’s very apparent that Adams has a tendency to drop out of the limelight for years at a time, and is somewhat private.  My silly assumption was that he was absolutely and completely out of his mind.  In my heart I believed that no talent of that level can exist on a plain with us normal people. 

Lo and behold, he’s not insane (but I’m also not a doctor).  He’s actually rather personable and incredibly entertaining. 

Normally, I attend shows at smaller venues that are packed with much younger crowds, meaning that there are cameras flashing the entire set, people checking smartphones, maybe even an altercation, etc.  I have never experienced the silence that settled over Academy of Music when Ryan Adams entered the auditorium and settled into his guitar.  Noticing the quiet, from my balcony seat, not one camera screen light was visible unless Adams was between songs.  The unspoken community respect shown for Adams was uncanny.  It was as if he was a mythical creature that nobody wanted to spook. 

Witnessing Ryan Adams perform felt like he had invited you into his living room to share an evening.  He had multiple guitars propped on their stands, a piano, a stool and a microphone.  Once he began playing, the sold-out venue with a capacity for 2,897, became an intimate gathering.  The height of the triple balcony venue would normally be a feat for a solo artist to conquer.  Adams not only surpassed expectations, but succeeded in reaching every listener as well as asking them to “be careful,” as he explained his fear of heights.

Between songs, Adams shared stories of his arrival in Philadelphia, watching two large, intoxicated men yell at each other on the street and the absolute humor he found in the scene.  As one of @theRyanAdams Twitter followers, I find particular joy in his constant obsession with the Ed Hardy-wearing host of Ghost Adventures.  Much to my elation, he shared at least one anecdote about the not-so-down-to-earth character, and I was officially sold that Ryan Adams is not only talented, but he really should be my new best friend.  (I’m only kidding, because that would be crazy, right?  Right???) 

Ryan shared approximately 20 songs with the audience, and each one successfully induced a sense that you were experiencing something magical.  New York, New York particularly resonated with me as he played on the piano, you could hear every intake of breath, and it may have even been better than the studio version.  

Ryan closed his set with Come Pick Me Up, which I, personally, have found to embody all that I love about him: the pain, the honesty and a little bit of humor.  After monstrous applause, he opted for an unorthodox encore of Round And Round by Ratt and apologized as he would not be able to play much longer or he would be forced to buy the union members employed at the venue “the equivalent of a yacht.”  Classic RA (That’s what I call him, as we are now best friends.)