True magic: a night with Rayland Baxter

Rayland Baxter is the perfect mix of singer-songwriter, psychedelic rock, and country. His songs are sickeningly sweet, a tad-bit whimsical, and just the right kind of rowdy. Baxter brought his eclectic mix to San Francisco’s Great American Music Hall on March 22nd for a joyous night of noise making.

Baxter took the stage just after 9:30pm, accompanied only by a smile and a baseball cap. He picked up an acoustic guitar and broke into a lively rendition of “79 Shiny Revolvers.” The crowd happily greeted him and screamed the lyrics back at him. Throughout the night, the audience assisted him by accompanying Baxter’s own teeth whistling with theirs, or yelling the words at him when he forgot the lyrics.

Part way through his set Baxter told the audience, “I hope he [Mac Miller] is hanging out with Leonard Cohen in heaven.” He remembered how he listened to Miller while writing his album “Wide Awake,” driving and adding harmonies to Miller’s raps. Baxter used this as his introduction to his cover of Miller’s “Come Back to Earth.” Watching Baxter’s performance was perplexing; it was the only song he performed without a guitar yet he seemed at ease as he paced the stage sharing knowing smiles with his bandmates.

Perhaps it was Great American Music Hall’s history as a brothel coming alive, but the night was filled with liquor and lust. Half the crowd drunkenly leered at Baxter, who only offered a coy smile or enabled them by thanking them for their help. The other half slipped between universes, hand in hand with a significant other or exclaiming how they wish they could take Baxter out afterwards. The scene struck me — I did not realize how many couples Baxter would attract, but it was bewitching to watch as they swayed together with only Baxter’s gentle crooning to accompany them. I felt as if I was given a brief glimpse into a touching world of intimacy, as if everything suddenly had a pink veil over it.

Baxter invited openers T. Hardy Morris back to the stage exclaiming, “We got one last jam in us.” They proceeded to play the Grateful Dead’s “Fire on the Mountain,” a rendition I am convinced Jerry Garcia would be proud of. I appreciate Baxter’s nod to San Francisco and the venue he was performing in. Though it was a small gesture, it is clear that Baxter understands the magnitude of those who came before him and relished in every moment of his performance.

Baxter ended the night as he started— alone, with an acoustic guitar. He wasn’t flashy, and at times he was arguably dorky, but his voice seemed to grant us renewal, honesty, and reinvigoration for a better tomorrow. Perhaps Baxter is something like a preacher, or maybe he is better considered a wizard. It is clear that a show with Baxter is true magic.