Indie-Folk Artist Sings Stories at The Red Door

Some may say that it isn’t what you say, but how you say it. With Elijah Wyman it’s both.

At the Red Door in Portsmouth NH, under the glow of a dim spotlight, Wyman and his guitar (and his autoharp) wove tales about death, suicide, betrayal and faith. Off stage and in between songs he is modest and lighthearted, encouraging listeners to meet him. But when he begins each song it’s apparent that Wyman is very serious about his music. Almost as if possessed by the moment he played and sang with a haunting conviction that suggested that each song was exploding from him instead of simply being released.

With his moccasins turned inward and his gaze focused outward through his rectangular spectacles he created an intimate relationship with much of the audience. Most of which consisted of young, bohemian adults with tight zip up hoodies.

He played half of his set completely unplugged, including his vocals; the rawness of which made him appear much like a bard. But even when he set up microphones for the quieter half of his set, the deep connection between audience and storyteller stayed the same.

“Even in Blue Ink You Are Black and White,” a song off of his new CD, Why We Never Go Swimming and Other Short Stories displays the virtuosity of Wyman’s songwriting. It is predominately a slow, solo acoustic piece, and that is how he played it at The Red Door. Behind it’s catchy but ominous finger picking melody this song holds a story that is rich in description and metaphor. It shows instead of tells about the complexities of romantic betrayal.

An interesting feature to his set was that one of his songs was played on autoharp, a traditional folk instrument. He had written it the night before upon learning the ins and outs of the apparatus. It was slightly eerie but powerfully dramatic.

At the end Wyman finished with a fast-paced song, also off of his new CD, called “My Blood Will Cry Out To You.” It is a modern re-telling of the biblical story of Cain and Abel that highlights how much the Christian religion is part of Wyman’s life. With lines like “I promise you, if this trigger doesn’t stick then we’re through” the severity of Abel’s situation becomes more real for the contemporary listener.

Mike Anderson
The Wire, April 2006