Review: Houndmouth at The Anthem on Aug. 7

With questions circulating about the future of Houndmouth, their show at The Anthem on Friday, Aug. 7, felt less like the band coming to D.C. and more like the band coming to Jesus. How apt for the tour of their newest album, Lordy.

Houndmouth is a shell of the band it once was, or perhaps it’s a different creature altogether. Lead singer Matt Myers is the only original member remaining, after the sudden and mysterious departures of several former members. The spark of chemistry that previously fueled the band’s distinct, alternative blues sound has died and, with it, the band’s camaraderie. The only glimpses of connection between the band members on Friday night were offered during Myers’ lengthy guitar riffs with bassist Zac Anderson. While, on a few occasions, the pair shared a mic—creating explosive, improvised tunes as smiles spread wide across their faces—the band members kept their distance from each other the rest of the night.

Myers took lead over the nearly two-hour set and chose to only very cursorily introduce the other members. “On bass: Zac Anderson of Louisville, KY. A Scorpio,” Myers relayed to the crowd, somewhat disinterestedly. Unlike the typical frontman, Myers avoided applauding the talent and energy of his bandmates. Perhaps the Reddit users rebranding the band “Houndmatt” are right. With Matt as the lead singer—the literal “mouth” of the band—and its original members a distant memory, the Lordy era reeks of ego rather than rapport.

Photo Credit: Grace Guernsey

Frustratingly, Myers never gave the impression he was trying all that hard. After all, he was just some lawn guy in Indiana before he made it big and started cutting lines of coke instead of grass (“Comin’ Round Again”). Adorned in a plain white tee and clutching his guitar, he exuded a lazy, masculine confidence on stage. He moved quickly from track to track with little audience engagement, and the few times he addressed the crowd, he did so with a twangy voice and un-enunciated words. With Myers, there was little appeal in what he said and only a mild appeal in how he said it, leaving the concertgoers altogether uninspired. At one point during the chorus of their 2015 track “Darlin’,” as the crowd swayed romantically, Myers turned the mic to them but received, at best, a lukewarm response; only a few soft voices crooned the lyrics back to him.

Myers may have a flat affect, but he never asked to be put on a pedestal. He doesn’t try to lead by example. If anything, Matt advises against following in his footsteps, warning in “My Cousin Greg” that “if you wanna live a good life, then you better stay away from the limelight.” Friday night’s concertgoers can surmise that Houndmouth’s rise to fame served as a corruptive force, both for the personal life of Myers and for the life of the band. Rockstars are seldom reputed to conduct themselves graciously, let alone gracefully, and Myers is no exception.

If the rumors are true, what Matt Myers lacks in words he makes up for in libido—dexterous not only with his guitar, but also with women. Allegations that Myers imploded both former bassist Shane Cody’s marriage and his own after sleeping with Cody’s wife haunt the band. Seeming not to have learned from his mistakes, in the band’s new track “Tiger Mouth,” Myers resorts to his signature quick fix: women. On Friday night, he belted that “she tastes just like medicine.” However, judging from the band’s woes in recent years, women are not the healing treatment that Myers needs—if anything, it’s quite the opposite. 

Photo Credit: Grace Guernsey

Lordy offers glimpses of reflection from Myers, with desperate pleas to leave the wreckage behind but with no plan of how to do so. The years, though, weigh heavy on Myers, and as he approaches his forties, he laments in “Holy Moses” that he’s “got so much baggage, bags for days and bags in [his] eyes.” Matt, it seems, is not only physically tired, but tired of himself.

He then allowed Fred Eaglesmith to offer some reflections on his behalf. Covering “Trucker Speed,” Myers croaked that he’s “been beat up [and] broke down,” and now his “wheels ain’t touchin’ the ground.” Playing this cover and tracks from the melancholic Lordy album, Myers (and the rest of the band) yearned for groundedness. Houndmouth can only survive if Myers is willing to abandon his life in the clouds and come back down to Earth. In the meantime, concertgoers can expect to be entertained as Houndmouth lets both their drama and their indie rock tunes play out.

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Grace Guernsey is a rising senior studying Culture & Politics and minoring in Spanish. Her first solo concert (during her freshman fall) was Houndmouth.