Holy Miracle! The Old 97s Get Seattleites Dancing

The amusing story of how we wound up at the Showbox Saturday night to see the Old 97s begins with a plan hatched amongst friends far too late at night (and after far too many drinks). And, what with the constant internet access you get with the iPhone, we wound up with tix to the show, while everyone else turned out to be spread between Las Vegas and Palm Springs last weekend. And thus we wound up at the Showbox to see a band we knew nothing about.

Normally that scenario doesn't turn out well, but the Old 97s' rabid fan base (an acquaintance we ran into described her boyfriend as wanting to perform fellatio on them all) kicked up the energy in the room something fierce. The second opener, Hayes Carll, had us nervous: with the oompah rhythm, lack of backbeat, and the liberal application of lap steel, there wasn't much "alt" about their take on country. But the Old 97s, led by Rhett Miller, emerged to pound out something that sounded a lot more like good old-fashioned rock-and-roll than anything. And the crowd responded by doing something we rarely see in Seattle clubs: dancing.

So we're not going to run out and buy all the Old 97s' albums, and we remain somewhat dubious of alt-country, but we have to give it them: the Old 97s put on a good show and keep the fans happy, and that's no small feat. At the very least, their live shows are highly recommendable.