As I settled into my seat, I looked at the gathering crowd with hesitant curiosity. Many of the people filling the arena for the Avett Brothers concert this summer wore clothes like mine: women in gingham sundresses or earth-toned linen pants and tank tops, men wearing denim or chinos and button-down shirts with the sleeves cuffed. For every 20 people dressed like this, I noticed one or two who wore something different: dark T-shirts paired with baggy jeans draped in chains or miniskirts with combat boots.
Only three days before, I realized that this evening was not going to be the typical Avett Brothers concert I was hoping for. In fact, it wasn’t entirely an Avett Brothers concert.
The Avett Brothers, led by Scott and Seth Avett with their friends Bob Crawford and Joe Kwon, have been writing story-driven folk-rock songs since the early 2000s alongside bands like Mumford & Sons and The Lumineers. Often listed among the greats in the folk-rock genre, they are perhaps best known for their Grammy-nominated album “True Sadness,” which was released in 2016. Their vulnerable lyrics paired with a string-forward sound played a significant role in the soundtrack of my 20s and 30s. I had never seen them perform live, so when friends invited my husband and me to a show close to our home outside of Baltimore, we jumped at the chance. I was looking forward to singing along to the Avett Brothers’ songs that had accompanied and uplifted me through times of doubt and change.
In anticipation of our big night out, I looked up videos of the Avett Brothers online. In the newest videos, including appearances on “Jimmy Kimmel Live” and “The Tonight Show,” they are not introduced as The Avett Brothers, but as AVVT/PTTN, (pronounced Avett-Patton.) Who is Patton, I wondered? And why is he sharing the stage with the Avett Brothers?
Mike Patton is perhaps best-known as the lead singer of the hard rock band Faith No More, whose bombastic song “Epic” reached number 9 on the Billboard charts in 1990. He has since worked in a number of collaboration efforts over the past 35 years with a variety of artists across musical genres. (In 2022 Rolling Stone described an album he was putting out as a member of Dead Cross as having “the same fury of its predecessor with all the spasmodic, head-turning weirdness Patton fans expect.”)
The first picture I found online of Patton startled me: His gray hair was twisted into high pigtail braids, the word NECK was written across his throat in bold black marker, and the expression on his face made it seem as though he was trying to scare me. He did not look like someone I would expect to collaborate with the Avett Brothers. They usually wear jeans, cowboy boots and easy smiles. Mike Patton did not come off as someone whose music I would like.
I was curious about how the Avetts came to collaborate with him. It turns out the Avetts have been longtime fans of Patton, who is best known for experimental rock and heavy metal music that often blends unexpected combinations of musical styles while featuring his impressive vocal range. Exchanging contact information led to swapping song ideas for fun. From their home recording studios in North Carolina and California, the musicians would take turns making additions or changes to the songs and then email the files back and forth. Before they knew it, the Avetts and Patton had created a whole album of songs together without ever meeting in person. Now they were on tour to promote this album, and they were stopping in my town.
Disappointment mixed with resistance as I realized I would not be singing along to my favorite Avett Brothers songs as expected with my husband and friends. As parents of young children, it takes a good amount of sacrifice for us to coordinate a night out. Spending that night listening to a beloved band blend their sound with someone who appeared to be an outsider felt like a risky bet.
Up until this point, my impression was that heavy metal music involved a lot of screaming. While I could understand that might provide catharsis for some people, I turn to music to help me relax or boost my mood when I’m having a rough day. It was hard to imagine feeling relaxed and happy while listening to someone scream-sing into a microphone, even a professional someone with an impressive musical career.
More than that, I assumed that I would not enjoy being around Patton’s fans. If these folks enjoyed music that was unpredictable, would they be unpredictable, too? If Patton was scream-singing on stage, would there be screaming, angry people in the crowd?
When I examined the root cause of my resistance, I realized how deeply I wanted to be surrounded by like-minded people. I felt resistance at the idea of stepping out of my comfort zone or allowing someone else to step into mine.
This realization raised an alarm in my mind and heart. I did not think of myself as someone who judged and avoided others based on their aesthetics or preferences, but I was doing just that.
The producer and mixer Dana Nielsen gave voice to my concerns and curiosities when he asked, “Can two fan bases co-exist peacefully?” in a live Q&A with the Avetts and Patton. As the concert drew nearer, I realized that I wanted to be part of answering that question in the affirmative. But in order to do so, I would need to surrender my assumptions and enter the evening with a humble, open mind.
Thankfully, the Avett Brothers and Patton modeled this humility and openness in the way they inhabited the stage and built the setlist. Without an opening act, they simply stepped into the spotlight to the sound of “Family Trees,” a song Patton composed for the film “The Place Beyond the Pines.” Then they launched into two of the songs from their collaborative album, first “Disappearing” and then “The Ox Driver’s Song.” I noticed immediately that these songs did not sound like the Avett Brother’s typical songbook, nor what I imagined Patton’s might be. There was something new and beautiful in the room with us, and it caught my attention.
The songs on this album are haunting, both sonically and lyrically. The opening track on the album, “Dark Night of My Soul,” poses questions familiar to anyone hurting and seeking: “Is this the dead end of the road?/ Is this the bottom of a hole?/ Is this the dark night of my soul?” This struck me as a meaningful point of connection among the musicians on stage: the Avett Brothers’ melancholy, introspective songs are usually my favorites, and I was surprised to learn after the concert that Patton’s music also does not shy away from spiritual themes.
The first song of the set list, “Disappearing,” also speaks to a spirituality of seeking with lines like “I’m disappearing again/ Holding on, but I can’t for much longer.” At the concert, however, these somber messages were tempered by being performed in front of a live audience; to the lonely questions posed by the songs, a large crowd responded with cheers and applause.
The musicians responded to and supported one another, too. As the setlist progressed to some of the Avett Brothers’ biggest hits (including “Ain’t No Man” and “No Hard Feelings”), Patton watched the brothers as an orchestra member watches a conductor, waiting for the right time to join the songs by playing an instrument or singing a verse. From my seat in the audience, it was obvious that Patton did not come on this tour to tout his own accomplishments or stand on a pedestal as “guest star.” He found a way to make his own meaningful contributions.
“In the beginning stages, it was like, how do I jump into a set of music with a set of brothers?” Patton said in another interview. “How can I blend my voice and my leanings into this? It was very delicate at first, and then once I found it, it was unfiltered.”
At the same time, the Avett Brothers ceded the stage to Patton several times throughout the night, giving him a chance to sing some of his greatest metal hits and show off his vocal range in his cover of “Easy” by the Commodores. In those moments, the members of the audience dressed for a metal concert would stand and cheer. I found myself experiencing a bit of joy on their behalf.
Witnessing this synergy caused me to reflect on the respect and risk that is needed to reach across a divide and create something new. It is easy to make assumptions about people who appear to be different from us. I fell into that trap as I prepared to attend this concert.
It takes respect to meet someone where they are, and it is risky to enter a conversation that could cause a shift in our perspective. But the AVTT/PTTN collaboration showed me that if the conversation is founded on respect and both sides are willing to take a risk in the name of a higher good or goal, the result will be beautiful in its own right.
The concert confirmed for me that Patton’s music is not my style, but it also gave me the opportunity to see that he is a master of his craft. My respect for him as an artist grew throughout the night as I witnessed his vocal range and thoughtful collaboration with the other musicians on stage. I admit, I never would have given him a chance to earn my respect if the Avett Brothers hadn’t invited him to tour with them in this way.
This leads me to wonder: Who else am I making assumptions about? To whom else should I offer a chance? What might happen if I do? Or worse, what might happen if I don’t?
The most moving and memorable part of the concert was the encore. The entire band, and what appeared to be several stagehands, gathered around Seth Avett at the piano and passed out lyric sheets to one another. After a brief introduction about sharing a picnic together during rehearsals for the tour, the entire group sang an unpolished acoustic version of “It Is Well With My Soul” to close the show.
Witnessing accomplished musicians drop their egos and sing from song sheets was both endearing and inspiring. They even asked the audience to stand and join in, encouraging us to look up the lyrics on our phones so we could all sing together. It might not have been perfect, but it was beautiful. Two different fandoms united in a common love of music and a desire to sing together gave me a hopeful glimpse of what was possible and what it would take to get us there.
Indeed, in his introduction to the encore, Scott Avett said, “This is a group of friends and family here that love each other and care about making stuff. That’s what we’re doing.” Perhaps that is the ultimate takeaway from the show: The moment we acknowledge each other as friends and family, we will be able to make something new and beautiful together.
Politics
Faith
Culture
Vatican
Scripture
Podcasts