Ever since Katie Crutchfield wrote her first songs, she’s been chasing earworms. With her twin sister, Allison, she made fuzzy rock in a band called P.S. Eliot, an energy she injected into her subsequent solo work as Waxahatchee.
But Waxahatchee began as a punk band, more in lo-fi spirit than aesthetic. There’s always been a plaintive, rootsy streak running through Crutchfield’s sound — and her aspirations. As such, she has spent the 2020s releasing albums that cement her place as not just a melodic expert but as a sterling voice of contemporary indie Americana.
At Beak & Skiff Apple Orchards in Lafayette on June 21, Crutchfield was joined on the bill by Asheville’s MJ Lenderman and The Wind and New Orleans’ Hurray for the Riff Raff. All three acts were stellar, but Waxahatchee in particular lived up to the hype, swerving through a remarkable recent catalog with ease and, crucially, straight-up joy. The ear wants what it wants.
Diehards who caught Waxahatchee at Brooklyn’s Silent Barn in the early 2010s may have been disappointed: no song here predated 2020, meaning Crutchfield’s large vault of indie-rock bangers remained untouched. What she showcased instead was an exultant set of country-adjacent singalongs. Crutchfield stunned with big numbers like “Oxbow” and “Crowbar” that encouraged the crowd to join in on the chorus vowels.
Complemented by an oil painting-worthy sunset one day removed from the summer solstice, Crutchfield had swagger that looked startlingly similar to pure liberation. She swung her guitar and shimmied along to her band, including Spencer Tweedy (son of Jeff) on drums and Chicago songwriter Liam Kazar on guitar.
During “The Wolves,” a standout from 2024’s celebrated “Tigers Blood” album, she sang, “I do it all for the glory / Not the wind shaking off my leaves” as she leaned directly into the wind, her long ponytail billowing. Her hero Lucinda Williams wrote about someone too cool to be forgotten; Crutchfield can surely relate.
Crutchfield bolstered her set with a gem — a cover of “Six O’Clock News” by Canadian songwriter Kathleen Edwards — as well as cool country signifiers. “Problem With It,” a song she released with Jess Williamson as Plains, featured prominent pedal steel work, and Crutchfield’s prominent drawl on love song “Can’t Do Much” made it soar into the air.
Indeed, Americana spirit shot through each set. Opener Hurray for the Riff Raff, an indie-folk project fronted by Alynda Segarra, dipped into last year’s terrific “The Past Is Still Alive” album, weaving together whimsical tales of drag queens, addicts and wanderers on the margins. The album shares a producer with Waxahatchee’s “Saint Cloud,” creating nice continuity. The LP feels tectonic but sounds quite simple, Americana jeweled with cutting flourishes.
Segarra brought the songbook alive with a four-piece band, stretching out the sweet venom of “Snake Flower” into a reverie and reminding that “some things take time” on the lovely and economical “Buffalo.” Crutchfield could be seen just offstage singing along — game recognizing game.
MJ Lenderman, meanwhile, the current slacker-king ascendent, sets his tales of dudes who love “Jackass” but look toward the constellations against an alt-country backdrop. A key collaborator on Waxahatchee’s “Tigers Blood,” Lenderman joined Crutchfield for that album’s big single “Right Back to It” during the headliner’s set, as well as the cozy “Burns out at Midnight.”
She did the same for him during his, singing backup on his breakup tune “She’s Leaving You.” It was an early highlight, presaged by Lenderman, in a Dinosaur Jr. shirt and dark sunglasses, chuckling from the mic, “I just saw some people leave the bathroom line for this!”
The rest of his set crackled to life, especially on the hit “Wristwatch,” with its mention of “a beach home up in Buffalo.” Dozens of phones shot up to record that one, even as the singular moment came during the fiddle-scraping ballad “Rip Torn,” one of his most underrated.
Lenderman and Segarra returned to the stage (along with their respective bands) late in Waxahatchee’s set for sweeping choral accompaniment to “Tigers Blood.” A song before, Crutchfield shouted out her tour mates before “Lilacs,” her best song, and dedicated it to them.
The vibes, as such, were communal both on and off the stage. Eating a sugary cider donut and vibing to some tasteful alt-Americana amid a soft summer breeze might just be heaven on earth — and everyone seemed to know it, including the musicians. To paraphrase what a wise lad once said, there is much pain in the world, but not at the apple orchard.
Patrick Hosken is CITY’s arts reporter. He can be reached at patrick@rochester-citynews.com.
This article appears in Dec 1-31, 2024.
