It’s impossible to believe that the real, flesh-and-blood Josh Ritter—the one who couldn’t help grinning ear to ear and jumping around the stage for the entirety of his two hour set—is the same musician behind the cautiously calculated, philosophically troubled The Historical Conquests of Josh Ritter. It’s also impossible to believe that this kid—the rosy, blonde, shy country boy who rambles about weird Idahoan potato rituals and makes Larry Craig jokes—is thirty years old. Mostly on the sheer force of his own energy and an equally enthusiastic band, Josh Ritter thoroughly delighted the packed house that was obviously one of the largest audiences he’d ever entertained (and an even larger crowd joined via NPR’s live broadcast of the show). Ritter apparently wanted his new record to be “wild, fun music,” and he provides that sort of experience much more effectively onstage than on the much denser, heavier recorded version.

Most of the big numbers from Historical Conquests came rapid-fire off the top of the set list: “Moons,” a minute-long interlude from that album, led directly into “Mind’s Eye,” which Ritter performed with unbridled excitement. Without varying a single note from the recorded version (including a backing brass ensemble), “To The Dogs or Whoever” pushed forward the momentum that seemed intentionally plotted so that Ritter could dance out his caffeinated jitters before speaking to the crowd. After a brief U2-rock detour for “Wolves,” the brass and saxes came back for the rollicking “Rumors,” unquestionably the loudest number of the evening. The hammering piano and the best lyrics of Ritter’s record were all delivered unsurprisingly, but still worked—for all the song’s intellectual prowess, Ritter’s bombastic presentation cast it more as an up-tempo rock song about breaking up.

Steeped in American storytelling and farm-town imagery, Ritter’s live music seems more innocuous storytelling and less moral provocation. But he’s obsessed with religion and cultural standards, topics that recur in plotlines involving affairs, late-night drives and situations in which the subjects are “naked as windows.” Hearing these songs in a long string makes it difficult not to wonder if Ritter isn’t reacting to a past sexual escapade for which he feels the overwhelming need to offer penance and/or defense.

His turmoil, however—his inner war with (his own? a friend’s?) sexuality and perhaps how the deep religiosity of his regional roots interacts with complex moral dilemmas—appears onstage only in lyrical hints; he fails to explore the nuances of his past with much emotion or verbal exposition. He never appears troubled, and his brow rarely furrows; his stories are delivered with cheeky smiles, with a “but mommy, I don’t mean to be naughty” cuteness belied by the cerebral sharpness of their moral angst. Only during “Girl in the War,” a lovely song that screams against war and the platitudes of institutional religion, did Ritter seem to be saying something. He frowned, he yelled, he cursed (“If they can’t find a way to help, they can go to hell!”), all while name-checking New Testament apostles.

The ferocity of “Girl in the War,” the most memorable moment of Ritter’s set, made a more than awkward setup for “Right Moves,” perhaps the smoothest retro-pop crush song in his repertoire. The out-of-place bright moment lasted but a few minutes, through “Real Long Distance,” before Ritter quietly concluded with a haunting, stripped rendition of “Still Beating.” The four-song encore was more of that soft seriousness (during which the club was so impressively silent that everyone could hear their own heartbeat) and toward the end felt needlessly drawn out—anticlimactic, even. Old School Freight Train, the grinning bluegrass outfit who opened the night, joined Ritter for the raucous closer (“Next To The Last Romantic”). It was a fitting outro romp, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that the show would have ended on a much more powerful note with a hushed, acoustic heart-to-heart whispered just before Ritter disappeared into the darkness.

Part of Ritter’s giddiness was undoubtedly due to the fact that he was playing one of the largest venues of his career, and was flustered by the exuberance of the audience who obviously knew every one of his songs. With a few more shows like this one, Josh Ritter is going to be a bigger name than he quite realizes. Hopefully, as he stands before even larger and more adoring crowds, he’ll be able to stress the power of his lyrics and the tension of his experiences even while putting on a good show.

Set List:
Moons
Mind’s Eye
To the Dogs or Whoever
Wolves
Rumors
Here at the Right Time
Monster Ballads
Good Man
Harrisburg
The Temptation of Adam
Naked as a Window
Girl in the War
Right Moves
Real Long Distance
Still Beating
Empty Hearts
Kathleen
Lawrence, KS
The River
Next to the Last Romantic

David Sessions is the editor of The CCM Patrol.