Zach Sees a Concert: The Beths
When You Know You Know
The final leg of our spring concert circuit came to a head when we bought tickets to see The Beths at the Cat's Cradle. The Beths are an indie rock band hailing from Auckland, NZ, and they have always been a soft spot for me and Kathryn as we began listening to them together very early on into our relationship. They were putting on two shows at the Cradle due to popular demand, and we got tickets to the first night.
Independent of our plans, my good friend Morgan had also been planning to see the group. He missed the presale, but was able to snag resale tickets at near face value. We happily onboarded him for our concert trio and dined on some sloppy joes before making the trek to Chapel Hill.
Expert In A Dying Field
The vibes were high headed into the venue. We were chatting amongst ourselves when a man came up and started gushing over Morgan's hat, which featured the Pokemon Gengar cross-stitched by his girlfriend Lauren. He was apparently a big fan of Snorlax and was hoping to acquire a similar look. We got to cover all this up to getting inside the venue, as we had arrived later than doors open but before most of the crowd.
Kathryn, Morgan and I each got a drink at the bar and got in line for the merchandise. Kathryn already had a shirt from when we saw them in 2023, but I didn't, so I bought one for myself this time. Morgan bought a hat, two CDs, and a vinyl. Thankfully, this is a venue where you can easily leave and re-enter, so Morgan was able to drop our haul off at the car before the show started.
The author would like to remind you that purchasing merchandise is the single most effective method to support your favorite artists. Touring accounts for 95% of an artist's revenue. It is difficult to eat your slice of the pie when the rest is devoured by Spotify, the record giants, and Ticketmaster.
No Joy: As an aside before I describe the show, Morgan and I were chatting to a nearby man in the crowd (perhaps in his 40s or 50s; let's call him Tom) about other venues in the area. After our conversation, Morgan briefly left to purchase another drink. As any good friend does, I stuck my foot where he was previously standing to hold his spot in the crowd. Kathryn followed suit. Then Tom stuck his foot in as well. Kathryn and I laughed, thinking he was helping a fellow stranger out. However, he then stuck his other foot in and took the spot completely. He also waved his wife over to seal the deal. To say Kathryn and I were aghast is an understatement. Morgan was clearly going to return, and Morgan is clearly part of our group. Aren't you old enough to know better, Tom?
Anyway, Morgan was able to return to our other side as the opening act began. Her name was Squirrel Flower, a Chicagoan sporting a lone guitar and a mane of hair that puts the rockstars of the eighties to shame. She didn't hesitate at all before beginning the performance, which consisted of soaring her gorgeous voice atop a repeating guitar motif. This isn't particularly unique for an opening act - most shows of this size feature talent in this genre - but for reasons I cannot explain, she had the entire audience entranced from the start. Everybody was mesmerized by her effortless melodies and quaint stage presence, myself included. Her lyrics, vocal style, and guitar movements reminded me of Joni Mitchell, so if you're a fan of her work (as you should be) I highly recommend you check out Squirrel Flower.
Squirrel Flower concluded her set and The Beths were soon to follow. They also didn't waste any time, jumping right into Straight Line Was A Lie, When You Know You Know, and No Joy.
The Beths are not a show you attend to mosh or get rowdy. They don't command your attention through an energetic stage presence. The highlight of their show is the quality of the music and the personalities of the band themselves.
Frontwoman Elizabeth Stokes is, in my opinion, a generational talent of songwriting. Her lyrics are deeply moving to me as someone who seldom cares for the prowess of words. Nearly every tune of hers has an extremely catchy hook, no matter its tempo or energy. These ingredients are blended with her easy-to-listen voice and the melismatic choir of her ensemble to produce a seemingly effortless and timeless sound. They occupy a very special niche in my repertoire due to this skill of theirs, earning them my recommendation anytime somebody is seeking a new musical experience. If you are seeking the same, I encourage you to listen to their 2022 record Expert in a Dying Field and expand to the rest of their discography.
As I alluded to earlier, their personalities are the other highlight of the show. My unsophisticated American ears simply adore their Kiwi accents and their chemistry with one another. It was a delight to hear them speak about their experience visiting this opposite side of the world, including their unfamiliarity with the term "Research Triangle", the observation of our rampant kudzu invasion, and their interaction with various natural features around the area.
I would be remiss to not shout out a fellow blogger, as The Beths' bassist has been running a tour blog since the band's conception. It is a treat to scroll through the years and it will provide you a better glimpse into their synergy than I ever could here.
The Beths exited the stage prior to the encore as our trio navigated to the back of the room. We're fans of what we call "encore skip" where we, surprisingly, skip the encore in favor of an easier venue exit. However, the band announced their final song of the night would be one they rarely play, and the preluding notes of 2am washed over us. We instantly knew that encore skip was infeasible now as this had been Morgan's penultimate wish to hear. We still managed to get home in a timely fashion, so it was absolutely worth waiting behind.