Paul Songs: Broken Bones & Pocket Change

St. Paul & The Broken Bones: Broken Bones & Pocket Change
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When a musician leaves the stage and heads into the crowd, you never know what is going to happen. That’s probably why you don’t really see it very often, and when it does happen, there’s usually a phalanx of security guards to protect the musicians from bodily harm. I’ve written about one time that I saw The Decemberists leave the stage in Amsterdam to reenact the 1667 Battle of Chatham, and another time that Buddy Guy jumped off the stage in Central Park and eventually approached my wife and I, and our two-month-old son, who was at his first concert (not including a couple he attended in utero). And I recall seeing the Blind Boys of Alabama do it, also in Central Park. I’m sure there are more examples, but the only other one that I can specifically recall was when I saw St. Paul & The Broken Bones at the Capitol Theatre in 2019.  Although I feel like that is something that Bono has done on occasion, and we all know what his real first name is, right?

I’ve mentioned in passing before that I occasionally blog about shows at the Capitol Theatre, the storied venue in Port Chester, New York. When they announce shows, I can request a ticket, and if I am chosen, I get to go for free, and write about the show. They then post what I wrote, usually with a bunch of nice pictures taken by a professional photographer, on their website, in a section called the “Squirrel Blog.” Squirrels are important to the Cap. I blogged that show, so let me borrow from what I wrote back then, when it was fresh in my memory: 

After Janeway introduced and thanked the band, they launched into the emotional “Broken Bones & Pocket Change,” as Janeway plunged into the crowd before walking upstairs, singing from the side boxes, traversing and nearly climbing off the balcony, and ending the show from the boxes on the other side. 

You can see a video of that part of the show here. I don't think you can see me in the video, but I'm standing in front of the soundboard, because someone once told me that it was the best place to stand.

The “Janeway” that I referred to is Paul Janeway, the titular "St." Paul, who had trained as a preacher before eventually turning to music. The band’s name came from our featured song, the first that Janeway wrote with bassist and co-founder Jesse Phillips. They formed the group in 2012 in Birmingham, Alabama, and soon became an 8-piece soul band that included guitarist Browan Lollar, who had been part of Jason Isbell’s band The 400 Unit and keyboard player Al Gamble (whose brother Chad is the drummer in the 400 Unit). Their first full album, Half The City, which contained our featured song, was released on Single Lock Records, which I only mention because one of the owners is John Paul White (of The Civil Wars), and then, only because we are focusing on “Pauls.” 

Here's how I described their performance that night: 

Janeway regally commanded the stage, a shiny cape over his shoulders like Solomon Burke, and the crowd was in his hands from the start. 

Good performers feed off the energy of the crowd—great ones take that energy and send it back, magnified, and that’s exactly what Janeway and the band did, holding nothing back through the hour and a half set. His voice is a freak of nature, rich and soulful—think Al Green or Otis Redding—with an otherworldly falsetto that thrilled the crowd. 

It was a great show, I got to see it for free, the lead singer left the stage and climbed into the balcony, and nobody got hurt. If that's not a great night, I don't know what is.