At once a storyteller and a songwriter (and often in that order), John Craigie brought tracks from his latest studio release, Pagan Church, as well as fan favorites to the Lobero Theater last Friday with a full band in tow. The Portland-based folk musician, perennially on the road, made a stopover in Santa Barbara as part of his Keep It Warm fall tour. With two releases under his belt this calendar year already (January’s Pagan Church and September’s live album, Greatest Hits…Just Kidding…Live-Not Hits) Craigie and co. took the Lobero stage to deliver tunes “best enjoyed by sad people in a dark room” (his words, not mine).
Opener Kassi Valazza primed a growing Lobero audience with her own, softer brand of folk: acoustic ballads of life and love on the road. The only thing Valazza’s set lacked was an actual campfire to gather round as she serenaded her enraptured listeners. As she closed her set, Valazza offered a perfect introduction to the headlining act: “John’s gonna come out and make you laugh and make you cry and all the good stuff.” Expectations were appropriately set.
As soon as they took the stage, Craigie and crew launched into “Damn My Love,” Pagan Church’s spirited opener. His ninth studio album, 2024’s Pagan Church has Craigie sounding as bluesy as ever, with slide guitar licks and organs underscoring the L.A.-native-turned-Portland-transplant’s usual religious allusions and personal references, with critical, sonic support from Portland’s TK & The Holy Know-Nothings.
Craigie wasted no time in addressing the political elephant in the room, recalling an election night morning-after doomscrolling session to gauge his friends’ reactions to the presidential results. He made no attempt to mask his progressive inclinations with “Kumbaya” centrism, even offering a lyrical middle finger to the incoming administration through updated lines in more than a few songs (i.e. “Bad presidents had to get elected, good presidents had to get shot” became, “Bad presidents got elected, bad presidents got shot” in end-of-set live staple “Dissect the Bird”).
It’s worth noting here that John Craigie is funny. Not just a funny guy, but downright hilarious. His understated sense of humor, bolstered by fun impressions of people he’s interacted with and sly commentary on real stories, makes his shows as laughable as they are singable. This was my third Craigie performance, and I found myself once again wondering: Is a John Craigie show a concert punctuated by comedy or a standup set with musical segues? Either way, Craigie is perhaps as known for his humor as he is for his songwriting; even his latest release, Greatest Hits…Just Kidding…Live-Not Hits, includes between-song banter as individual tracks, further cementing his status as a pseudo-standup sensation.
Craigie’s stories are filled with all sorts of characters, from EDM festival goers who’ve never flossed to municipal employees saving AirPods from sewers. It struck me that the crowd gathered to listen at the Lobero last Friday was a perfect demographic for these stories: hippie enough to laugh at squares but square enough to laugh at hippies. And though I’d heard a few of his tales at previous performances, my girlfriend noted that he took on the persona of that one uncle at a family gathering who you genuinely like but always ends up retelling the same funny stories. Alternatively, she suggested, he was like an old friend with whom you could reminisce about lighter times.
As Craigie and his band traversed his catalog, from classics like “I Am California” to newcomers like “California Sober” (he writes about California a lot), his message of optimism became increasingly clearer. Before an encore, Craigie shared a sentiment that someone had told him long ago about the purpose of music, one that he channels in all of his work, from stand-up bits to four chord folk songs: “Music isn’t about making you feel happy, it’s about making you feel less alone.” Mission accomplished, John.
