For the better part of two decades, Eric D. Johnson has maintained a steady, borderline-prolific output under his Fruit Bats moniker. His consistent yet ever-evolving approach to folk-rock has earned Fruit Bats a cult following of loyal fans alongside those who discover the band by accident and eagerly jump on board. Johnson splits his time with other projects, mainly the critically acclaimed trio Bonnie Light Horseman these days – but he always comes back to Fruit Bats. Much of the magic of the band is in the way Johnson and his always-changing cast of bandmates present the songs live, which is captured in their freshly-released live album Starry-eyed, in stereo. Portland, Oregon has long been a Fruit Bats stronghold – largely due to frequent appearances at the Pickathon festival – and on Thursday, May 16th, Johnson and co. wrapped their two-night return to the Rose City with a sold-out show at the Aladdin Theater.
Getting the night started was David Nance, an accomplished Omaha-based musician currently touring behind a new self-titled album he just released with his band Mowed Sound. The quartet laid down a set of visceral garage-psych that often veered into classic fuzzy rock and roll and even cosmic country. Nance’s baritone gave each song a sort of brooding classiness as his bandmates conjured a wall of mind-bending guitar and chugging grooves. Highlights of the set included “In Orlando” – a moving alt-country nugget introduced as “the saddest song we know” – and the unbridled psych-punk explosion of “Poison” to round out a proper rock and roll experience.
Riding in on a wave of sunny, Harry Nilsson-esque pop bliss with “The Balcony,” Fruit Bats were in fine form from the very start. Much like their new live album, the set sprawled across Johnson’s impressive catalog with an emphasis on keeping the grooves flowing. On a version of “The Rock Doc” brimming with jazzy guitar licks, Johnson rotated between several vocal octaves within a verse. “Absolute Loser” saw the band easing into a rolling psych sound, complete with spacey keyboard soloing. The band switched gears with a version of the warming folk-rock tune “We Used to Live Here” that erupted into a big guitar moment before the soulful shimmer of “Cazadera.” Johnson even hit high notes on the funkified slow-churning disco of “You’re Too Weird.” With its sharp, bright guitar soloing in the spotlight, “My Midwest” was a standout tune from the set, while “Waking Up In Los Angeles” also enchanted with its commanding folk-rock sound and road-weary lyrics. At this point, the band was locked in, as was the crowd, allowing Johnson to step up his frontman showmanship. He strapped on an acoustic guitar for the soulful “Baby Bluebird” before stirring up the fans into a near-dance party with the rollicking “When U Love Somebody.” He even climbed into the crowd to croon the lyrics to “Flamingo,” laying down doo-wop-esque vocals while swimming through the audience. Johnson frequently shared memories from his time living in Portland, and this culminated when he introduced “A Lingering Love” as being written for Portland before the band complemented his wavy vocals with bursts of Grateful Dead-style jam flourishes.
Throughout their ninety-minute set, Fruit Bats took their fans on a vibrant, groove-heavy trip that radiated positivity and warmth. It was clear that, for Johnson, there is rarely a desire to stick to a script. He has no shortage of good recordings, but he is also someone who has always thrived onstage, giving the audience moments of spontaneous joy. This was clear when the band encored with the sly R&B tune “The Bottom Of It,” one of the proper bookends to an impressive show with lovely slide guitar that left the audience already anticipating the next time Fruit Bats fly through Portland.
