The Jefferson Theater thrives on its intimate setting. Every audience member is privy to a clear view of the band regardless of proximity to the stage. But with the arrival of Dr. Dog last Saturday — a performance which sold out three weeks in advance — excited fans from all over the east coast flocked to Charlottesville to see Dr. Dog’s unforgettable performance.
The stage was set with three microphones equally spaced in a row, and a drum set and keyboard stationed behind. A large flamingo adorned the backdrop as a testament to the band’s most recent album, “Live at the Flamingo Hotel.” The empty scene appeared bland, but the band’s entrance onstage was accompanied by a blast of colorful light and music.
Dr. Dog was phenomenal — each song a concoction of unique voices and sounds blended together in an intoxicating tune. The band’s three singers each played the guitar or bass, while switching instruments between songs. All three members almost always played and sang simultaneously, vocals and instrumentals interacting exquisitely. It was hard to tell where each voice came from. Dr. Dog’s soundtrack sounds as if there is only one singer, but the live performance revealed three singers whose voices cooperate as one. Every band member was visibly invested in the music, exuding an undeniable pleasure the audience clearly picked up on — the lack of personal space seemed to fade into the background.
“Be the Void,” a seemingly mellow tune, had the entire crowd moving as if it were a dance club song. “Lonesome” had a similar effect, ultimately completing the concert. Played during Dr. Dog’s encore, “Lonesome” caused the audience to erupt in excitement as soon as they heard the first few notes. Even “Heart it Races,” a song with complex lyrics and incomprehensible sounds moved the entire crowd to sing along.
The concert was a wonderful experience. Compared to the scanty turnout Dr. Dog received last year, this year’s large and enthusiastic audience highlighted the band’s growing success. Dr. Dog is a performance not to miss.