Live Review
Dashboard Confessional – Manchester Academy 2
Tonight, the Club Academy has the usual air of a Dashboard Confessional gig; a muted atmosphere, a languid vibe and a lingering awkward awkwardness hangs over the room. Just as excuses like “well, this is a low-key acoustic set’ are bubbling in the mind. My thoughts are interrupted by a friendly, bemused and quite stern voice belonging to a member of Academy staff;
“Erm, Mr Adair; the Dashboard Confessional show has been moved upstairs to the Academy 2!”
Ooops, however, upon arrival at the correct place the above description is not far from the truth as Mr Dashboard himself; Chris Carrabba cuts a lost and lonely figure onstage clutching his acoustic guitar for company. This stripped bare run through of Dashboard Confessional classics, has an immediately stilted feel and format. The first few lines of each song from a repertoire that spans nearly seven years, is bellowed out with gut wrenching clarity from the emo king himself, before he hands over to the eight hundred or so D B C aficionados present and, to their credit they replicate the swooning vocal harmonies with piercing precision. ‘Don’t Wait’, from 2006’s slower and deep lyrics concealing ‘Dusk & Summer’, lends itself perfectly to tonight’s format.
For the die-hards in attendance the quivering falsetto in ‘Screaming Infidelities’, picks up in impact thanks to this hushed down setting. Between songs, try as he might and in spite of all the encouragement in the form of unconditional laughter and cheering, Carraba always comes across as an awkward, nervous character, but maybe that just adds to the appeal? Requests are bellowed out with speed and belief to be greeted with a guarantee that all will be aired. Unfortunately, not all of these requests, including ‘Reason To Believe’ are right for this setting. This power ballad that builds upon the robust percussion and cyclically churning electric guitars just comes across as limp and impotent.
‘Vindicated’, from the block busting Spiderman 2 soundtrack loses none of its commercial oomph, sees phones lofted in the air so that absentees can wallow in its punchy pizzazz. Naturally, this ends the main set on high and momentum from this is drawn through to the encore that includes the magnanimous cry out, ‘Hands Down’. However, tonight emphasis the point that for all his emotive thrust and potency on record, Carrabba still has something to find in a live setting.