Playing the hits from his latest album, Three Flights from Alto Nido, Greg Laswell filled San Diego’s Casbah with smooth acoustic harmony. Laswell reminded me of the typical guy-next-door artist, but as he effortlessly switched between the piano and guitar—it was clear that his music was anything but ordinary. The vibrant, heart-wrenching sounds of acoustics accompanied by sad piano tones were reminiscent to Coldplay and Death Cab for Cutie, but Laswell’s soft, melodic voice expressed a sweet sincerity that only an indie artist could know.
How the Day Sounds, his most recent hit, was definitely a favorite. The song was the perfect equilibrium between high and low chords; all the while slowly rising to an emotive peak that simultaneously touched every soul in the swaying crowd. High and Low was poignant, and I felt spiritually elated by Laswell’s brilliant poetry. Laswell does not sing about life’s lesson, stories, or cute ideas. His lyrics are pure art, abstract in definition and open to interpretation.
At first, I tried to follow his lyrical wanderings in attempt to get to know his musical objective, but soon gave up, realizing his objective was for me to find my own.
Throughout the night, Laswell’s mellow rhythm ranged from depressed ballads to soulful epiphanies. By his second song, the place was hypnotized, and I quietly observed how the crowd’s cigarette breaks became less and less and the bar remained empty. It was as if everyone was at a stand-still, their hearts hanging on every chord.
What a Day remained apart of the melancholic piano and acoustic theme, but had an edgy drum beat sided by aggressive lyrics. Laswell called the crowd to action but not in the sense you’d expect. Taking the higher road, he goaded his positivity and optimism on the crowd, and the song reflected his hunger to live. I was impressed by the song, since it seemed to raise its middle finger at society by pushing people to just be happy, content, kind. Laswell’s wistful voice hearkened to the part of me that wants to embrace the quality in life, not just its quantity. I felt encouraged by the ballad.
As I drank in Greg Laswell’s third solo album, I became intoxicated by the indie alternative-folksy-rock conglomeration. By the end of the show, I felt Laswell had led me through his heart’s emotional high’s and lows that cunningly reflected my own. The silky piano playing and light acoustic humming reflected a rainy-day soundtrack, smartly executed by a fusion of elegant symphonic sounds and hipster coda. Greg Laswell is a worthwhile musical treat.