10/26/2000 12:00:00 AM
Daily Orange - Concert Review
Tim Reynolds' guitars entrance Syracuse U. audience
By Andrew Parks
Daily Orange
Syracuse U.
(U-WIRE) SYRACUSE, N.Y. -- What a difference a guitar makes. Would
the Stones have rolled without a Keith Richards to complement Mick
Jagger thick lips? Would Led Zeppelin have been anything without the
feedback fuzz of Jimmy Page to add to Robert Plant's croon? Or would
Guns n' Roses -- may they rest in peace, Axl -- have made "November
Rain" without Slash's crucial guitar solo to sell the drama?
The history of rock music was forged by an amplifier and strings.
While Jimi Hendrix was the quintessential guitar player of the 20th
century, Tim Reynolds is an unsung guitar hero for the 21st.
Reynolds, best known for his collaborative work with Dave Matthews
Band, painted vibrant soundscapes with his acoustic guitar all
through the air of Syracuse University's Goldstein Auditorium on
Wednesday night.
It's a shame the room was not even a quarter full when Reynolds took
the stage around 9 p.m. Anyone with the slightest interest in music
would have appreciated the amazing atmosphere Reynolds created with a
few pedals and two guitars.
Reynolds began the evening with some straightforward, simple riffs
off of his 12-stringed Gibson. After just a few minutes, the audience
seemed to fall into a trance created by the hypnotic swirl of chords
around their heads. Eyes rarely strayed from the tips of Reynolds'
fingers, which caressed and sliced through his instrument with ease.
Throughout his hour-and-a-half set, Reynolds maintained a mesmerizing
combination of basic chords over layers upon layers of pedal effects
and abstract sounds. As he strung guitar lines together, the
instrument and man became one.
This marriage of sound and emotion reached its pinnacle when Reynolds
first switched to his six-stringed guitar -- it never came down for
the remainder of his performance.
Reynolds started with a menacing intro manufactured by his delay
pedal and looped it through the serene environment that followed. As
Reynolds danced hand-in-hand with the melody, a variety of sounds
erupted from his fingers into the visibly satisfied ears of the
crowd.
Throughout the night, Reynolds retained his quiet, elusive image and
let his guitar do the talking. Sitars rattled, slabs of funk dropped,
the plucking of the string section of an orchestra brought down
gentle aural raindrops, and a violin floated over the violent
pounding of flesh against frame -- all through the magic of a piece
of wood with cat gut strings strewn across it.
After his performance, Reynolds appeared to be a shadow of the person
he was on stage. While he played, Reynolds lost himself in his songs
and swung between ferocity and beauty.
But when the guitar was not around, Reynolds appeared as a humble
little man.
Reynolds said he is not Buddhist, but he follows some of their
practices, including meditation. Contemplating his surroundings is
one of the things that sets Reynolds apart from the intensity he
portrays in front of crowds. He is a multi-dimensional character who
needs more recognition from the industry and an escape from the
unfortunate DMB pigeonhole.
Before Reynolds took the stage, Johnny Society offered its mix of
country twang and 1980s metal, but was met with a hostile response by
students who shouted at the band to move off stage.
"For those of you who don't want to hear another song, fuck you,"
Kenny Siegal, lead singer of Johnny Society, said to the heckling
crowd beneath him.
His frustration characterized what happened when Reynolds was not on
stage. Although the crowd only amounted to about 200 fans, it had
only one thing in mind -- hearing the guitar wizard play.
(C) 2000 Daily Orange via U-WIRE