Christopher Davenport’s new album Live At The Dive (Vol. 2) captures the atmosphere of your favorite local dive bar. For us in the Hudson Valley, the term “dive bar” is synonymous with Snugs in New Paltz. If you close your eyes while listening, you can smell the stale beer–you can feel it stick to your shoes as you mosey on over to the bar for another pickleback or Snugs Surprise. The album was recorded by Ethan Klee in February, and Davenport released it on July 1st–it’s as if they harnessed the wintry air to keep us cool through the dog days of summer.
“Live At The Dive” is a series that Davenport hosts every last Tuesday of each month at Snugs to showcase bands and artists, alternating between solo acoustic sets and full band performances. The singer-songwriter nights are especially laid back and conversational, as the artists share stories in between songs and interact with the audience in the relaxed, intimate setting. This live album serves as an exemplar of the vibes of the recurring event. Davenport’s banter between songs and the crowd’s cheering and hollering make it feel like you’re right there carousing with them all.
On the first track “Dead + Famous,” Davenport sets the tone of the album, marked by its gritty simplicity, as the arrangement is solely acoustic guitar and his endearingly gravelly voice. His style sounds like if Violent Femmes and Tom Waits somehow merged. Davenport sings, “I thought by now I’d be dead and famous / but I still get vertigo / And nobody goes to shows anymore / At least not when they’re paying / At least not when I’m playing.” It’s this self-awareness and self-deprecation that I think many in the DIY scene can relate to. I’m feeling a strong impulse to say, “I remember back in my day when shows were $5 a head.” Luckily, you can still see great shows at Snugs for $5-8, but anywhere else the prices have jumped significantly. Also, as you advance into your 30s, audience sizes decline steadily as your friends tend to have earlier bedtimes and, you know, kids. It really hits home when Davenport belts, “The world I was waiting for / Don’t exist anymore / Thought by now I’d be dead and famous / But I’m just broke and nameless.” As a fellow Millennial, I can attest to the feeling that we were duped–reality gradually crushed the lofty expectations we’d had growing up. But hey, maybe it’s better to have had some sort of illusory dreams to strive for than to grow up completely without hope.
Before the next song “Cold Road Soda (In Oscoda, MI),” Davenport provides some context: “Alright, this is a song about a trip I took with some friends to say goodbye to a friend…I hope it brings you peace.” The chord progression, with its leisurely tempo, establishes a pleasant yet melancholic mood, and that repeated note bending in the riff adds a nice touch to the motif. Davenport sings, “It’s a dead long flat drive from home / The horizon just goes and goes / So pass me another cold road soda in Oscoda / There’s no longer any fear of getting older.” The bittersweet lyrics adeptly complement the reflective nature of the harmonic sequence.
The rest of the album follows a similar satisfying progression, never sticking to one tempo for too long and always keeping you intrigued and on your toes. “Life Guarded” has some of my favorite melodies on the record–the hooks are infectious and the choruses are indisputably commanding and memorable. If for a moment you saunter over to the bar for another beer, your attention will be quickly redirected back to the stage as Davenport yips on “Coyote Beachcomber,” and piques your interest with dynamic tempo changes. After the song, Davenport tells the crowd, “If you’re cold, they’re cold–bring them inside,” and someone in the crowd replies with a “Yip-yip!” If you’re listening to the deluxe version on Bandcamp, on “(Midset Crowd Check)” Davenport asks, “How we doing, everybody? We having fun? Is it still live in this dive?” The crowd returns, “Woo!”–meaning, “Hell yeah!” Then Davenport says, “This one’s called ‘My New Favorite Cocktail.’ It’s about, you know, my new favorite cocktail,” and you’re persuaded and you think, “You know what? Maybe I’ll get a whiskey ginger instead of a beer.” The subsequent track “33 & ⅓” is a clever double entendre, an extended metaphor likening the singer’s age to a vinyl record: “33 & ⅓ / Afraid any more just might hurt / Can’t keep going circular / But in this groove I’m a needle / In this groove I’m the needle.” The theme of reality vs. expectation is further elaborated upon–when we’re young we have this conception that life will be a steadily ascending trajectory, but the hard truth is that the path is more so a jagged series of erratic cycles that can wear you down over time.
Davenport introduces the final song of his set: “You know, me fanning myself, you wouldn’t realize how cold it is this night, but on a cold night like tonight I would love to be sitting around a campfire with y’all.” “Campfire (In NH)” concludes the album on a sweet note that comprehensively wraps up the set. It’s all about enjoying our time with the people we love while we can. Davenport tenderly sings, “I wanna learn something new / About the ones I’m closest to / And we don’t go to bed ‘til the coyotes do.”
I thoroughly enjoyed Davenport’s Live At The Dive (Vol. 2). It’s a great live album that deeply immerses the listener in both the dive bar setting and the artist’s distinctive perspectives in a compelling way that demands your attention and sustains it from beginning to end. The environment is alive–the crowd’s cheering and chatter contribute a special element to the record rather than distract or detract from it. You can really feel the love in the room. Give the album a listen and revel in the experience that the record so effortlessly captures and successfully harnesses.
Christopher Davenport’s social and streaming links:
Buy the album on Bandcamp
Catch Christopher Davenport live at an upcoming show:
- Every last Tuesday of the month hosting “Live At The Dive” at Snugs in New Paltz, NY ($5 at the door)
- 8/21 – Opening for Pizza Party at Snugs in New Paltz, NY ($8 at the door)
-Review written by James Kwapisz
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