Jason Isbell and the 400 Unit showcase ferocity and tenderness at the Greek

Jason Isbell challenges what it means to be a country singer. In fact, he doesn’t even consider himself a country singer, and most people would probably agree once they’ve heard his brutally honest lyrics and bluesy guitar riffs. But Isbell proved that country— Americana, folk, whatever you want to call it— can be so much more than tractors, beer, and the farmer’s daughter at his Thursday show at the Greek Theatre in Berkeley, CA.

Aimmee Mann opened the show on a rather boring note. Her songs blended together and she kept referencing how she only sings “depressing slow songs.” By constantly criticizing her music, she only made the audience more inclined to dislike it; it felt like she was either trying to warm the audience up for a coffee shop open mic or a night accompanied only by your own loneliness and a bottle of wine. Her musicianship was impressive, however she seemed to bore the crowd rather than prepare them for Isbell and his band, the 400 Unit.

Straight out of the gates, Isbell brought fire to each song in his set. He used his high energy songs like “Never Gonna Change” as a platform to showcase each musician’s talent and share ripping guitar riffs with the crowd. However, he brought a different ferocity to his ballads. They were something that screamed for attention but in such a subtle way that it pulled you in, seduced you, then proceeded to stomp on your heart. “Elephant” served as a highlight of the night, leaving much of the crowd in tears.

Isbell delighted fans by committing to his outspoken personality, offering critiques of the world, religion, and politics. His song “White Man’s World,” which explores themes such as racism, sexism, and white privilege, stood out due to its poignant lyrics that leave the listener with no questions as to what Isbell believes. Isbell is one of the few people who can manage to say “fuck you” in a way that is not only honest, but beautiful.

The night didn’t end with a bang, but a pureness so sweet it almost made your teeth ache. Isbell tapered the night down by performing “If We Were Vampires” with his wife and guest violinist, Amanda Shires. The piece had such intimacy that it made the us feel as if we were the only people in the world, lucky enough to get a quiet invitation to witness something so beautiful and private that you almost wanted to look away. Yet I kept getting drawn back into the pure loveliness of their voices; a vision of true love in a sea of strangers. This warmth was only accentuated when Isbell and Shires’ three year old daughter joined them on stage to bow and wish the crowd a “goodnight.”

Unfortunately, Isbell only succeeded in filling about half of the Greek, yet his performance was not affected by the vast emptiness of the venue. He played as if he was headlining a sold out show at Madison Square Garden; his ferocity, grit, and energy are something to admire. Isbell’s musicianship and performance challenged what it means to be a singer-songwriter, a storyteller, and an artist. He is certainly not one to miss.