CoMo Goes Punk: Frank Turner at The Blue Note
Written by Emmi Jacqueline - Photography by Trischa Splitter
Frank Turner has been touring for more than 2 decades and shows no sign of slowing. On a Monday night, Frank Turner and The Sleeping Souls shared The Blue Note stage with midwest emo and local band Black Bear Boxer, and tourmates Rebuilder, a pop-punk outfit from Boston.
I’ll be honest, midwest emo is not really my jam. I began cutting my teeth in the pop-punk scene of South Florida in the early 2000s. However, Black Bear Boxer and their driving beat was the perfect start for a Monday show. Monday crowds are notoriously shy and slow to wake up, but Black Bear Boxer managed to elicit a wiggle here and there from the crowd as the room filled.
When Rebuilder took the stage, I recognized the sound of East Coast pop-punk immediately. A quick Google search confirmed my suspicions and I was immediately transported to the days of being a teen and hanging out in the parking lot of The Talent Farm (RIP) with boys in tight pants.
Their set really brought life into the room with an entrancing stage presence. While everyone in the crowd was enjoying the show, the bass player and drummer really stole the spotlight. The drummer, in particular, had a magnetic energy, big goofy smile and was beating those drums with all he had, and I came to find out it was his first show with the band in 5 years. He was clearly THRILLED to be back on the road and making music with his friends.
Now I might have given away my age by saying I was a teen in the early 2000s, but once Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls came on, I was shocked to see my own aging reflected in them. Bands and music tend to be crystallized in time for me. I put on Tape Deck Heart and I'm transported to zipping around in my Honda Civic in my early 20s.
As Frank launched himself and the rest of us into his high-energy set, he shared his two rules of shows: don’t be a dickhead and if you know the words, you must sing along. According to him, this was his 2810th show with the sleeping souls. A tremendous feat and representation of his decade-spanning career.
In the middle of his set, he took the chance to be vulnerable, a key tenant of his work. He shared with the crowd the importance of doing hard things and things we are scared of. For a touring musician of 2810+ shows, it seems silly that he has self-conscious notions when it comes to guitar solos. But he modeled behavior for the crowd, asking for support from the crowd and asking a bandmate to set him up for his solo. Despite this introduction, the guitar solo ripped. The lesson learned: do hard things with supportive people.
With minimal talking between songs, Frank pumped out a two-hour set. Every time he’d break to talk, he would talk fast and get back to the music as quickly as possible. He was trying to squeeze in every song from his extensive catalog that he could. Yet it never felt rushed.
Frank has a way of bringing people together that just feels wholesome and right. What struck me most about this show was his dedication to inclusion. “The Way I Tend To Be” has always been one of those songs to cry along with. It deals with heartbreak and the loss of self that comes after. It is a staple of Tape Deck Heart, most of which Frank played as it is the 10-year anniversary of this seminal album.
This time though, when it came time to sing “And I meant it each time with each beautiful woman, But somehow it never works out,” he changed woman to person and I cried harder than I ever had. Watching an artist's understanding of love and the world expand is powerful and moving. It allows the listener to feel seen in a more intimate way. It is incredible how much a tiny change of just one word makes it so everyone can see themselves in the song.
To keep up the idea of inclusion and reincorporate the basic tenant of fun, Frank asked the crowd to open up and make a circle pit. He made sure to tell us about his time in the punk scene and share another basic but ever so important rule: if someone falls, you pick them up. As Frank instructed the crowd on how to make a circle pit, generations collided. Parents who brought their kids joined the pit, with their kids. This bridging of a gap is representative of all Frank’s work, concerts are a party and everyone's invited.
As to be expected, he ended the night with a three song encore. He milked the full two hours out of his set and somehow left us wanting more? But for these last three songs, the crowd finally woke all the way the fuck up. He turned a sleepy Monday night in a college town into the heyday of the folk punk scene. The crowd cast their self-consciousness aside and joined in for a raucous closing.
With everyone dancing and singing along, Frank gave us the treat we all know comes at the end of his set, a rousing version of “Four Simple Words.” Frank left us to go into our week full of hope and joy. He cemented his title as the king of positive songs for negative people. He showed Columbia that even after touring for 20 years, he still has it. Not only does he still have it, but we all do.
