REVIEW: Kevin Morby Outperforms the Sabres (it’ll make sense when you read it)
05/08 @ Levon Helm Studios, Woodstock
Photos by @put.over.photo
“It’s a real bold move to begin your set with a bunch of songs that nobody’s been able to hear yet but such is Morby’s command as both a songwriter and a performer.”
On Friday, May 8, Kevin Morby took the stage in front of 100 or so enraptured fans at the legendary Levon Helm Studios in Woodstock. The following is a stream of consciousness retelling of the evening’s events.
2011. That was the last time the Buffalo Sabres made the playoffs before this magical season of 2025–2026. Incidentally, 2011 is also the year I first became aware of Kevin Morby’s music. Of course, at this time, he wasn’t the Kevin Morby that we know and love today. At this point he was slappin’ the bass in Woods and rocking out with Cassie Ramone in The Babies.
I bring up the Sabres because tonight I have the honor of seeing Kevin Morby in the intimate Levon Helm Studios. That show happens to coincide with game two of their Eastern Conference Semifinals against the Canadiens and I’m conflicted. It’s not like the Sabres are in this position often. I gotta enjoy every ounce of playoff hockey that I can before they go on another 15 year playoff drought. I’ve decided radio silence is the best policy so I can lock in on this show and then I’ll just watch the game when I get home. Showtime!
Pulling up to Levon Helm Studios is kind of wild. It’s in the middle of a rural neighborhood surrounded by people’s homes. I turn right onto the driveway and “I pulled into Nazareth…” starts repeating in my head.
At the end of a long driveway is the barn that the legendary drummer left behind. Concertgoers have started to line up. Some are under a gazebo enjoying their BYO canned beverages by a custom made firepit reading “Levon Helm Studios.” Others are by the pond, passing fun cigarettes around their circle. A line has formed outside as the eager crowd is trying to get in.
Upon entering, the reason for the line becomes quite apparent; there’s only so many places along the standing room rails where you can actually see the stage. The experts knew they had to get in quick and claim their spot. I’ve got two choices; go for the audio-only experience out front or stand behind the stage where I’ll be able to see but probably won’t be able to hear so well. I decide that hearing is more important than seeing in this scenario.
As we’re waiting for Liam Kazar to open the evening’s festivities, the gravity of the space where we’re about to see this show really starts to set in. The walls of the barn are littered with photographs of The Band in and around Woodstock, the homebase where they made so many of their classic records. I don’t know if this is a hot take or not, but Garth Hudson has always been my favorite member of The Band. Him or Rick Danko. They were both so magnetic in The Last Waltz which is really my only barometer.
Kazar takes the stage at 8:07 pm solo and performs two songs including “Pilot Light” which was recorded in the Catskills. For song three, a bassist hops on stage and by song four we’ve got a drummer and the three piece band is providing the perfect rhythm section for Kazar’s bouncy, americana-inspired guitar. Oh, and hot damn. Kazar just ripped a solo that would have made Robbie Robertson proud.
Hell of a set. It’s now about 8:45 which means this Sabres game is probably just about to enter the third period. I wonder what kind of rat-like shit Zach Benson is getting into. Right, radio silence. Stop thinking about the Sabres.
A voice comes out over the PA, and it seems that a Blue Volkswagen Taos had their lights on for the entirety of the opening set. Whoops!
Waiting for Morby to take the stage, I’m left considering his discography. I’ve always been obsessed with the idea of a “yearbook album.” Every year of my life, I can point to a specific album that really defined that particular year. While it is often my favorite album of that particular year, it’s more so how that album really speaks to one’s station in life at any given moment. 2009’s yearbook album was Passion Pit’s Manners, the aching, love-lorn lyrics shrouded behind the decadent and exuberant indie-pop soundscapes mimicking the party boy exterior that was masking the supreme insecurity I felt over graduating from college.
2016’s yearbook album was Morby’s Singing Saw. His music has always been about capturing a sense of place. Singing Saw was part of his trilogy of albums about New York City and this came along right as I had grown tired of the city life and was ready to move on to the next phase of adulthood. Perhaps it’s no surprise that after Singing Saw, Morby packed up and moved out to Los Angeles, writing 2017’s City Music about the new metropolis he was calling home.
9:04 and Morby takes the stage. The first song is “Natural Disaster” off of his new album, Little Wide Open, which is going to be released this Friday, May 15. I still can’t see what’s happening on stage, but I hear that familiar refrain of “cry, cry baby.” I love how Morby’s songs are always in conversation with one another.
Holy shit! Aaron Dessner of The National (and Morby’s producer for Little Wide Open) is in the house and sits in with the band on “Javelin,” another song from the new record. The magic and mythos of Woodstock and Levon Helm Studios — legends just pop in to jam right quick.
The first six (!!) songs of his set are all from his new album, which has not yet been released to the public. It’s a real bold move to begin your set with a bunch of songs that nobody’s been able to hear yet but such is Morby’s command as both a songwriter and a performer. It doesn’t matter one iota that no one knows these songs; he’s got us all in the palm of his hand.
Morby then rips through a collection of songs spanning his discography from Singing Saw through to 2022’s This Is A Photograph. The title track from 2017’s City Music is a standout (shoutout Albany’s own Meg Duffy for that riff) as is “Campfire” from 2020’s Sundowner. On “Campfire,” keyboardist and backup vocalist Camellia Hartman has her moment as she takes a brief vocal solo.
An interesting thing about Kevin Morby — he’s very aware that he is the draw here. He’s with a band, but it’s still just “Kevin Morby.” His name is emblazoned on the fretboard of his guitar in case anyone forgot about who they’re here to see. Even so, he’s gracious with the stage. On “Destroyer,” Cochemea Gastelum takes the crowd on a saxophone journey for the middle three minutes of the song. Kazar, back on stage as the other guitarist in Morby’s band, takes multiple solos trying to live up to the legends who have ripped in this same room.
While this is Kevin Morby, the songs take on a new feel and context in the live setting. They’re more urgent; more frenetic, even. But just like a great jazz band leader, Morby always keeps it on the tracks. He’s like prime Lebron James. He facilitates and gets everyone involved but nobody’s confused about who’s team this actually is.
They’re back on stage for an encore and in a full circle moment, Morby is performing “Beautiful Strangers,” a song that Mavis Staples herself covered on her 2025 album Sad and Beautiful World. A fitting end to an epic evening in a legendary venue.
As I pull out onto the rural road at 11:05 pm, leaving “Nazareth” behind, I realize I haven’t even thought about the Sabres in two hours. I hope they won.
EPILOGUE:
They did not win. They lost 5-1. Now I have to reckon with the fact that I messed with the room chi and caused this. No more shows during Sabres games, goddamnit!
