A perfect Denver pairing: Devotchka and Calexico

If there’s a good place to see Devotchka for the first time, their hometown of Denver seemed certain to hit all the marks. 

Not that I intended to see Devotchka this Saturday. They were a late addition to bill at Calexico’s Denver date. The bands are friendly, so Devotchka joined the bill. That pushed me off the fence, and I got a ticket. 

Past experiences with free shows left me reticent to check out a free show from one of my favorite bands. The free shows in Nashville were mob scenes, with people crowded into too small a space and overprice concessions. 

The Levitt Pavilion has made free concerts bearable – the venue boasts a nice permanent stage in Ruby Hill Park, which sits on high ground above the South Platte River and its floodplain. The rolling hills provide seating for anyone who wanted to brave the heat (Denver hit 102 and broke a record this Saturday). 

Not that this round was free – I paid for a $45 VIP ticket, which included an adult beverage and seating in a roped-off seating section. I didn’t have to pay, as the hill behind the pavilion could seat thousands more than the thousands who came out. 

Between sets, I took a walk around the perimeter of the venue that could have qualified as a hike. Early arrival came with benefits. As people dribbled in, Devotchka conducted a soundcheck long enough to qualify as a mini-set. When several songs in the soundcheck drew applause – I clapped too, since they sounded great – they thanked us. 

Devotchka dressed down for soundcheck

Devotchka dressed up for the big show

After a short set acoustic folk from songwriter Molly Pardem, Devotchka reemerged in concert dress, the jeans and T-shirts from soundcheck replaced by suits and dresses. Despite looking into the golden hour sun on a 100-degree day, they never wavered. 

Devotchka favored us with a few songs best known from the Little Miss Sunshine soundtrack. I was unfamiliar with much of their set, having not bought a Devotchka album since 2009, but the songs were all complex and beautiful. 

At times, the band embraced an anthemic sound with flourishes from ethnic music of continental Europe. I had no complaints. A band comprised of multi-instrumentalists rarely disappoints. Singer Nick Urata tackles guitar, theremin and more. Jeanie Schroeder moves from upright bass to the sousaphone and flute, while Tom Hagerman split time on violin, accordion and piano (his pizzicato runs on the violin were eminently memorable). Even drummer Shaun King adds some trumpet to the proceedings. 

Since Devotchka was a late addition, it seemed natural that two friendly bands would unite onstage. They came near the end of Devotchka’s set, with a pair of songs, including The Enemy Guns. The band might never move beyond those songs from Little Miss Sunshine, but the songs are crowd pleasers every time. 

Stormy weather cut above us, but the strands of rain stuck to either side. A few streaks of lightning broke to the east. The show felt as if weather could intrude at any moment but the rain held off. 

I gave up my Adirondack chair in the VIP section for Calexico, wanting to get close to the stage. I walked among the grasses, looked down upon the thin river that once proved sufficient to supply Denver’s drinking water. 

Calexico joins Devotchka (well, most of them)

Ominous clouds

More wild clouds, the crowd unfazed

Emerging as a seven-piece, Calexico did not disappoint. As expected, they played a lion’s share of songs from El Mirador, their new record, while sprinkling in a series of songs from throughout their career. From the first blast of horns, the new songs got the crowd moving, as Devotchka already ensured there would be plenty of bodies moving in front of the stage. 

They sprinkled in a pair of covers – Alone Again Or, an old favorite from Love that perfectly fits their sound, and one new to me, Carinito by Los Hijos del Sol (Children of the Sun).

Guero Canelo from A Feast of Wire was a pleasant surprise, and I will never complain about live staples Minus de Cobre and Crystal Frontier, for their frenetic paces and blaring horns. I had to leave early since the 70-mile drive home is mostly dark and windy. 

But as I drove down to the park road, Calexico seemed to serenade me, their music carrying off the hill and gently lingering above the South Platte.

Calexico in the last of daylight