Julian Lage At Empire Music Hall

Julian Lage
Empire Music Hall
Belfast, N. Ireland
November 13, 2024

It is not too often that Julian Lage tours with nothing more than an acoustic guitar in tow. The solo acoustic album World's Fair (Modern Love, 2015) suggested at the time that the Californian might juggle solo performances with his group projects, but the following decade turned out differently. "My head was somewhere else," he told the Belfast audience.

That somewhere else translated into a slew of brilliant albums, of which Squint (2021), View With A Room (2022) and Speak To Me (2024) on the storied Blue Note label. Then there was the small matter of two dozen albums with John Zorn, numerous other collaborations, high-profile teaching gigs and Grammy nominations.

Lage got his big break aged just sixteen in Gary Burton's group, so he knows the value of a platform and mentorship early in one's career. Lage's support act was Ike Thomas, a young singer-songwriter armed with an acoustic guitar and a bag of original songs. This was the young Liverpudlian's first ever tour, and the fairly packed Empire Music Hall was, he said, the largest crowd he had ever played to. But if there were nerves he did not show it in his music. Humble, quietly charming and grateful of the audience's warm support, he looked to be in his natural habitat as he worked his way through a short, intimate set laced with sensitivity, and on "Her and I," a little dark humor.

On songs such as "I Will Bore You To Death," "Outside," and "Anyway" Thomas' delivery lay somewhere between Nick Drake and David Gray, while the gorgeous, deeply poetic "Sunflowers in Bloom" could have come from the pen of Melody Gardot. The ovation that greeted Thomas as he signed off, however, was the best indicator of the quality of his songs and of his performance. A young troubadour with a bright future ahead.

When Lage emerged fifteen minutes later it was to a rapturous reception. In return, he offered a smile and raise of the hand before opening with a brace of tunes from the aforementioned solo album. On "Gardens" Lage toggled between bucolic arpeggios, a bright melody—picked then strummed—and dashing runs of breathless speed and precision. There were fewer fireworks on the country-ish shuffle of "Day and Age," more of feel-good strum than anything.

But whether using a standard as a base camp from which to launch dizzying routes up and down his fretboard or leaning into classical winds on "Etude," Lage drew from a wide range of sources that mark him out as a musical polyglot—hardly surprising from someone who played in a trio with Chris Thile and Bela Fleck when fresh out of college, and who bounces between gigs with John Zorn, Charles Lloyd and Nels Cline.

Lage paid tribute to Ornette Coleman with a classically tinged interpretation of the Texan's heart-melting ballad "Chanting" that held the audience rapt. And from the sublime to the ridiculous with "Northern Shuffle"—a riff-based blues romp peppered with quicksilver runs of uncommon dexterity that had people shaking their heads and laughing in a mixture of disbelief and awe. For all Lage's technical wizardry—is it normal for a little finger to play the top string?—he never ceased to transmit a sense of joy and wonder at the music coming through his fingers.

There is a lot more to Lage's playing than dazzling chops; Jimmy McHugh's ballad "Say It (Over and Over Again)" showcased the refinement and sensitivity in his armory, the guitarist acknowledging his debt to John Coltrane's version from Ballads (Impulse!, 1963). At slower tempi, especially on country-blues fare, one could better appreciate the little slurs, feathery arpeggios, unexpected grace notes and slide-like effects that punctuated his unfailingly melodic narratives.

Lage signed off with "Peru," an uplifting mosaic of dancing rhythms and sunny melodies, which he dedicated to bassist Jorge Roeder, "my closest collaborator in the world." For the inevitable encore one might have expected some farewell rockets but instead Lage offered a delicate coda, delightfully balanced between classical and folk, that was as soft and quietly sparkling as morning dew.