ALBANY, N.Y. – It was a lot like winning the lottery; in a pandemic era, indie folk kinda way.
By all means of sane logic and measurement, the Milk Carton Kids’ recent performance at the Egg in Albany should’ve been held in its big room—the Hart Theatre—but due to a series of cancellations, conflicts and postponements, the show was bumped to the much smaller, more intimate Swyer Theatre. And for whatever reasons accompanying so much scheduling upheaval, even the Swyer was only two-thirds full on this night. So those of us actually in attendance—the “diehards” of the Capital Region folk “scene,” if you will—were rewarded with a truly magical performance.
And that’s such a very large part of why the acoustic duo known as the Milk Carton Kids—singer/guitarists Kenneth Pattengale and Joey Ryan—have become a cornerstone of the neo Americana, roots and folk movements over the past decade: Their performances tend to be magical, ethereal, otherworldly experiences, even in the largest halls. Experiencing a MCK set in the cozy confines of the Swyer, with its superb acoustics, was a bucket list experience for area fans.
The evening began with a tight, wistful set by Nashville based singer songwriter Michaela Anne, who practically floated across the strange in a stunning white Bohemian style dress, dazzling with her haunting voice and easy charm. Anne’s a storyteller at heart and her songs and introductions vividly bring you into her world, like “By Our Design,” and “Child of the Wind,” from her 2019 Desert Dove LP. It was the kind of transcending performance that undoubtedly won her over many new followers that night, this reviewer included.
Then, without much additional technical fuss (you have to love the minimal setups of acoustic music), the Milk Carton Kids strolled onto the stage in their trademark suits and shoes, strummed the opening strains of “Permanent,” and instantly captivated the audience for the next hour-plus. As Pattengale and Ryan sang together, sharing just one microphone throughout, it was pretty tough for even the most jaded concertgoers to not be mesmerized by what was unfolding before us all.
From the room, to the sound, to the set list, everything came together to perfection. Pattengale and Ryan took the audience through a comprehensive career-spanning collection of songs, played with an obvious joy to be back performing live again. The blissful harmonies of “Hope of a Lifetime” faded to the threadbare, mournful country twang of “Snake Eyes,” then into the quick-picked roll of “The City of Our Lady,” before coming up for air. During one of their usually hilarious moments of mid-set banter, Ryan joked about the duo just turning 40, surprisingly, and he’s right: They’re still at the absolute top of their game.
For the next block of songs, the duo began with the serene “I Meant Every Word I Said,” before picking up the tempo again with the Bluegrass inspired “Honey, Honey.” “Younger Years,” on the other hand, showcased the great depths of their lyrical imagery and flair for dramatic storytelling in the great folk tradition. Meanwhile “Sea of Roses,” featuring Pattengale on lead vocals, offers a remarkably intimate last wish as he reflects on his own future passing in the song.
The obvious comparison to the Milk Carton Kids’ sound is the sweet harmonies of 1960s icons Simon & Garfunkel, and indeed, it’s a fair one. There’s a whole stew of influences though beyond that, all brewing within, from Dylan to Guthrie to Springsteen, and countless others from the Great American Songbook. They’ve taken these myriad traditions and influences and carried them into a new generation, putting their own indelible mark on the genre, both musically and lyrically.
For another comedic moment of chit chat, Ryan confessed he feels like the less important part of the duo. It was endearing that he had the humility and humor to say so, as Pattengale does indeed cast a tall shadow, between his mind-blowing guitar chops and effortless vocals. Every solo he played during the show triggered an eruption of audience applause, and it was hardly lip service; it’s genuinely difficult to not scratch your head in awe at Pattengale’s command of the instrument. He plays with his entire body, becoming one with the guitar.
Locations play a large role in MCK songs, and quite a few of those found their way into the second half of the set, like the S&G/Dylan-esque folk of “New York,” or the tranquil “Asheville Skies,” and of course, the longing and desperation of “Michigan,” one of the standout moments from their debut Prologue LP. They wouldn’t have sent fans home without playing “Heaven,” either; the upbeat, fast tempo and slick guitar lines were perfectly complimented by the deep satire nestled within the lyrics.
Walking offstage for a brief pause, Pattengale and Ryan quickly returned, earnestly thanking the audience for their support, and expressing their joy to be back on tour after two years off during the pandemic. They then closed the evening with two encores: the sentimental, Pattengale-led “Charlie,” written as an open love letter to his future daughter, and “Years Gone By,” a brooding, expansive composition that builds to a dramatic crescendo, perfectly befitting a show closer.
As the audience showered the duo with final applause, Pattengale and Ryan gracefully took a bow and exited, leaving us already eagerly awaiting their next performance. If there’s any reason left in the world, next time the Milk Carton Kids play here, it will be in a much larger venue. But on this particular occasion, in this little room, we’d all experienced something truly incredible, that we may never get to see again, at least like this.
And that, my friends, is why we go to concerts.
