Rachael Yamagata
La Zona Rosa
Austin, Texas
July 22, 2005
A virgin to the city of Austin, arguably one of the nation’s epicenters for live performance, I was excited to experience the new vibe of concert-going on my vacation to the Lone Star state. After a 7/11 Dr. Pepper slurpy, getting hit on by a crazy street jewelry vendor, reveling in all the “GO LANCE GO” signs, and a quick stop into the longhorn shop where the color of burnt sienna (University of Texas’s official team color) swallowed me upon entrance, my two buddies and I headed off to La Zona Rosa for the Rachael Yamagata concert.
Tucked away two streets down from Austin’s famous 6th street, as featured on episodes of this season’s Real World, this quaint venue seemed a hole in the wall treasure. But don’t let the size deceive you – the place was huge! Equipped with a full-fledged bar, merchandise area, and art gallery, it made the Glass House look like the Chain Reaction, and positively reiterated the overused motto “Everything’s bigger in Texas.” We immediately moved to the front of the stage, and after Yamagata’s set, we were happy we did; the place was completely packed.
The stage was relatively small. It gave off a sort of beatnik vibe fittingly clad with Indian rug and bar stools; I felt like I was in an Ikea display room. However, the showy atmosphere didn’t overshadow the performance. After much anticipation, Rachael Yamagata finally took the stage. What I immediately noticed about her was her outfit. She was wearing fishnet stockings, blue snakeskin heels, a cherry blossom skirt, and a polka-dotted shirt. Either she is color-blind or wanted to deliberately play to the chic indie rocker crowd by showing off her eclecticism. She justified the latter notion later on in the set by saying, “I went for the slutty secretary look today.” It was great. Her unconventional personality mirrored her clothing, as well as her set.
The performance was very intimate with only two other musicians accompanying her, a violinist and second guitarist. On “Paper Doll” she demonstrated her impeccable balance by being the percussionist, guitarist, and vocalist. She used her left heel as a metronome, stamping down into the wooden stage throughout the entire song and not flinching once. The highlight of the night was definitely when she sat down at the piano to play “A Reason Why,” the same song that prompted her television debut on the popular teen series THE OC. As soon as she hit the first chord, my friend shrieked elatedly, so loud in fact, that Rachael Yamagata had to stop playing and acknowledge the startled fan. “Wow, that was like an orgasm. I’ve never made a woman feel like that before. Let’s try this again.” Humiliation at its best.
It was a treat to relive Yamagata’s past breakups and heartbreaks with her at Austin’s own La Zona Rosa’s. Her signature Joplin-esque growl mixed with the sweet and delicate nature of her voice masked the pain she truly felt. However, her rough façade is easily demolished by her lyrical sensibility. “So, steal the show, and do your best to cover the tracks that I have left” or the repeated eeriness in the simple “what if I leave?” showed Yamagata’s vulnerability and jadedness toward love. Her shirts even proclaimed it: No thanks, No more, No love. But what can I say? Broken relationships + bitterness = good music, and Yamagata has certainly cracked the code to this successful equation. Her latest album Happenstance directly attests to this. After all, the etymology translates to “a circumstance that is especially due to chance.” Yamagata states: “It’s about the battle between chance circumstances and the belief that everything happens for a reason. I’m not really endorsing chance, but in fact insisting that there must be a reason for repeated broken hearts – perhaps a promise of a better situation, learning experience, the greater love, etc. It’s a circular argument… and it’s merely a matter of ‘happenstance’ that the title is what it is anyway. Without the hopefulness of reason, how could anyone weather the highs and lows of relationships and this delightful junk called love.” Amen, sister.
By Angela Wolf