When the background music ceased and the speakers rang with a
clean, open strum, no one at the bar knew what to do. Was this a
sound check? Then, after two tests of the mike,
Philadelphia-based folk rocker Denison Witmer launched into
‘Leaving Philadelphia (Arriving in Seattle)’, a
sweet/sad reminiscence of lost community from his most recent
album, Philadelphia Songs. Alone on stage, his picking sharp without being aggressive, he
allowed every note to ring and do its work. Little pockets of
silence hid between the phrases, every bit as important as the
notes themselves. By the time he had sounded the final chord, he
had drawn everyone into the bar. An unpretentious, compelling style characterized Witmer and
his music. He wasn’t in your face. He didn’t try to
rock your world. He just gave 40 minutes of soulful, sincere
music that touched everyone who heard it, and it showed. Witmer’s lyrics, though always aware of the particular
settings of his life (it’s not just a train, but a train
from Leicester Square; not just Paris, but the place where they
filmed Amelie), somehow see beyond the boundaries of his
autobiography. They become relevant for everyone who is away from
their loved ones and yearning to return, or has lost them
forever. They mean something to everyone listening. Once, between songs, Witmer perked his ears up at a ghost of
intruding music from the club next door. “I can rock way
harder than those guys,” he said, then did a Jackson Brown
cover (not rock). Perhaps he can; his rock band the River Bends
releases an album in America this week. But he was more than good
enough just the way he was.ARCHIVE: 3rd week TT 2004