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“I know you’re an Elms crowd. I see like 15 T-shirts in the front row!” This apologetic observation came from the lead singer of Grayshot, one of two opening bands for The Elms’ appearance at The New Union in Minneapolis, Minnesota, on Saturday, Feb. 8. Later, to help soothe those overeager front-row fans, the bass player from the Tim Colfield Band noted near the end of their half-hour set: “Four songs and counting until The Elms.” While both bands knew what they were up against—a young, highly-charged, crowd primed to engage their well-rehearsed stomp/clap at the first sign of “Hey Hey”—they each graciously acknowledged the greatness that was to come, namely a fourteen-song, powerhouse set from Indiana-based rockers The Elms.

Though the true depth of cool The Elms released with their glorious opening cover of The Who’s “My Generation” was likely lost on many a young fan (including the two teenage girls sporting Elms concert T-shirts and band-autographed white headbands), their faithful but playful version immediately showcased the band’s road-seasoned tightness and high-energy stage presence. The fantastically mixed live sound, provided by Elms’ engineer Phil Tuttle, left all scrutiny out in the below-zero cold—The Elms live are even more engaging than on record!

At the first chords of familiarity (i.e. “Lifeboat” from the band’s debut major label release, The Big Surprise), the crowd began pogo jumping in unison to the crisp guitar, driving rhythm and sweet harmonies. A funky, retro spiral light projector swirled behind the band, accentuating the hipness already fighting the fog machine for control of the room’s atmosphere. When the band damped the last chord, the crowd went wild, and lead singer Owen Thomas, grinning like a little boy, raised his hands above his head and clasped his hands. “THANK YOU...THANK YOU!” It’s tough to hide pure elation.

During the break, Owen removed his jean jacket to reveal a stylish Hives-like outfit, complete with black shirt and silky black tie. He mentioned the band’s latest album, Truth, Soul, Rock & Roll and its first single, “Speaking in Tongues” before pointing to rosy-cheeked guitarist Thomas Daugherty who laid into the first lead notes of the intro. If it’s possible to speak in tongues instrumentally, The Elms raged with tongues of fire, inserting intricate accents and infinitesimal breaks that only arise from road-testing songs and pushing them to the edge of the live envelope. The band’s focus on musicianship is unmistakable.

From the back of the stage, Christopher Thomas (Owen’s brother and Elms’ drummer) smacked his simple kit with seizure-like speed and ferocious accuracy. At times his tongue moved as wildly as his wrists (the Michael Jordan of drummers?) while he bounced on his stool like he was speeding down a rocky hill on a riding lawnmower. Christopher live was show unto himself, in contrast to bassist Keith Miller who stealthily laid down his masterful bass accents while peeking through the bangs draping his
eyes.

As the band tuned between songs, requests rose from the raucous crowd. Owen stopped his tuning, threw his hands up in the air and cleverly exclaimed, “I came here tonight to do two things—to have a good time...and to teach you patience!”  Fans didn’t have to wait long, as the band ripped through a trio of favorites: “Burn and Shine” the surprise request “Goodnight, Rosa” (from the band’s five-song e.p., now available only as a bonus Best Buy reissue with the new CD), and “The Buzzing Won’t Stop.”

Owen shared a bit of band history with the crowd as he introduced “You Saved Me.” Almost one year ago to the day of this  particular show, Feb. 6, 2002, The Elms were driving down a slick and snowy I-40 in Memphis, Tennessee, and ran into some black ice. Their van spun around several times, went airborne, then ended up in the ditch. Owen, who was sleeping at the time, woke up in a hospital with no memory of his head being slammed into the windshield. “People at the hospital told us we should have died,” Owen explained. “But God is so faithful. That’s not something I’ve been taught or read: it’s something I’ve lived.” He collected himself by turning from the crowd to take a deep breath. Then with brotherly love and almost telepathic communication, Owen turned to his brother Christopher, and the two submerged themselves in the groove of the intro of “You Saved Me” simultaneously.

The rest of the band left the stage after the emotional song, and Thom (strapping on a beautiful Gibson acoustic) and Owen remained to offer an amazingly tender rendition of “Smile At Life Again.” The crowd fell as silent as they had been during Owen’s sharing, melting into swaying silhouettes wiping the emotional effects of the liquid smooth vocals and Thom’s delicate playing from their cheeks. 

After motioning for all “to let it go...” Owen returned to his electric, and the band reset itself to raise the roof again. Owen dedicated the next song “to the ladies.” The laid-back southern groove of “You Come to Me” brought the crowd back to a head-bobbing frenzy. Owen’s frisky, animated motions (drawing a heart on his chest, then tossing it into the audience, picking up an imaginary phone) and Thom’s soulful, controlled-feedback “skat-singing” guitar solo made the song one of the best of the night.

Two more songs—"You Got No Room To Talk" and “Through the Night”—and those rabid fans got their chance to strut their stuff...STOMP-CLAP STOMP-STOMP-CLAP STOMP-CLAP STOMP-STOMP-CLAP STOMP-CLAP-STOMP HEY HEY! STOMP-CLAP-STOMP HEY HEY! Pandemonium. No big surprise: The Elms rocked.