On Thursday evening, the pin-striped harmonies of the Wailin’ Jennys rippled through the ornate panels and pillars of the 101-year-old Cabot Theater in Beverley. The venue has been a longstanding treasure to the local community, surviving several iterations and turnovers to emerge as the retro concert hall it is now. While North Shore attendees kicked back in their cushioned theater seats with popcorn and tap beer, Ruth Moody, Nicki Mehta, and Heather Masse massaged our ears with redolent, mature folk tunes founded upon intimate narration, multi-layered vocals, and a robust string infrastructure.
Evenly spaced in a line across the stage, the five-piece folk act lived up to their namesake, howling like angels into the open air of the theater. It was stunning to witness Ruth, Nicki, and Heather compliment each others’ vocal contours with such striking balance and still proclaim their respective lucidity. Their jaws rose and fell in graceful uniformity as they shared an extensive two-part set of rootsy get-downs, acoustic ballads, oldie covers, and a cappella renditions.
Between the five multi-instrumentalists were over nine types of instruments, with frequent swaps that highlighted their wide range of musical proficiency. Nicki Mehta rotated between acoustic guitar, drums, and harmonica; Ruth between guitar and banjo; Anthony da Costa between a mint green telecaster, acoustic guitar, and a mandolin; and Richard Moody, Ruth’s brother, between viola, violin, and mandolin.
Beautiful Dawn” shone the spotlight on soprano Ruth Moody. Like a splash of seawater, her voice is both raspy and light, even-keeled and sharp-edged. She maintains flawless control over her voice even while playing intricate instrumental rhythms. Her finger-picking banjo part in “Glory Bound” revealed this very ease and precision; she is the archetype of a natural multitasker.
Heather Masse, swaying in her half-sleeved floral dress, exhibited a vocal range that reached as tall as her stature and as low as the booming notes of her upright bass. With tender earnestness and the healing stroke of motherhood in her voice, she sang the gorgeous lullaby “Ida,” written for her two year old daughter, who was tucked into bed across state borders. As Richard Moody’s fiddle solo serenaded the silent crowd of seated adults, the most marvelous thing happened: the small, mighty coo of a baby wailed a single “wah.” It disarmed every spectator and performer alike, touching a soft spot in every yearning heart, as if all of the maternal force uncoiling from Masse’s voice brought her baby to this very room to hail her mother’s unconditional love. When the song ended, Masse applauded the infant: “Thank you for that sweet little solo out there!” The baby immediately responded, “la la la la!”
As Nicki Mehta introduced “Starlight,” the audience fell into a melancholy attentiveness. In this politically-charged song remarking on Canada’s dark history of mistreating indigenous people, Mehta’s voice stood as a touching acknowledgement and remembrance of those who have been victims of dehumanization and violence.
The Wailin’ Jennys also performed a handful of covers, paying homage to some of their songwriting heroes like Tom Petty, Neil Young, and Dolly Parton. Their multi-layered renditions added unique harmonic qualities to the familiar songs, while the audience relished in their own intimate memories of the melodies.
Ruth, Nicki, and Heather, each well-regarded in their independent musical endeavors, shared the spotlight generously, boasting an expansive portfolio of folk and bluegrass songwriting. Between co-written material and solo efforts alike, the women embodied a bold selflessness to support the lead melody. Each breath into the microphone was intentional and dynamic, as if their voices were ironing out wrinkled sheets.
To bid the audience farewell, the three front-women of the Wailin’ Jennys returned to the blue light of the stage front for an a capella illustration of the old Irish folk tune, “The Parting Glass.” Without microphones, their hands rested gently at their sides as they channeled the raw energy from their hearts into their breath, projecting it into the open air. The ghosts of their voices still swirling through the theater, they left the stage with the grace, pride, and humility of owls in the night.
