During the winter in Anchorage, Alaska, the days can have as little as five hours of sunlight. John Roderick, ringleader and vocalist for The Long Winters, hails from the dim city and surely knew what he meant when he chose the moniker for his band.
Comprised of Roderick, bassist Eric Corson, Mike Squires on guitar and keyboard and Nabil Ayers on drums, the band has a sound that teeters on the line between moody and poppy, oftentimes managing to be both at once. Songs like “Fire Island, AK” and “Rich Wife” are lush and affecting without becoming sappy, but there’s a barb in Roderick’s voice that separates him from the crowd—giving his songs a snarl where others might flash a frown. With our very own winter well on its way, it’s a safe bet that the band and its new record, Putting the Days to Bed, will be warming up ears all over the city.
While some bands find it hard to catch the attention of New York audiences, The Long Winters managed to warm hearts from the get go. “The first great out-of-town show we ever had was in New York, at the Mercury Lounge, where the whole audience already knew the songs and were singing them back to us when our first record was only a few months old,” say Roderick. “I love the city … New York shows are always surprisingly intimate.”
Putting the Days to Bed, the Winters’ third full-length record, was produced by Roderick and finds the band slightly more upbeat than on its previous effort, 2005’s Ultimatum. The group’s method, Roderick explains, was to “keep the studio experience pretty stripped down, so this record sounds a little rawer.” The songs are heartfelt and engaging but without the self-awareness of most bands carrying the emo torch. Don’t expect to see the boys sourly skulking about the stage in ironic T-shirts, either, as Roderick claims that the band likes heckling and thrives on participatory shows.
“There’s nothing that burns me more than seeing a band that appears to hate its audience,” he says, explaining that the band’s intimacy with its crowd will sometimes “get a little out of control and people start to feel really involved.” He’s not complaining, though: “Our audiences are pretty smart and sometimes a little craziness goes with the territory.”
Sept. 29. Bowery Ballroom, 6 Delancey St. (betw. Bowery & Chrystie St.), 212-533-2111; 8, $13/$15.
