Tickets on sale to the public Friday, May 3rd at 10am.

Joseph

A tremendously special show celebrating the 10th anniversary of Joseph’s debut album Native, Dreamer, Kin which will be played in its entirety from start to finish, followed by favorites from the entire discography. Very special announcements coming soon about other elements to the show. This is a very important pivotal moment between what has been and what’s to come for the band and they’re excited to share it with their incredible audience. 

Becca Mancari

Since moving to Nashville to start their music career in 2012, Becca Mancari has been lauded for their dextrous songwriting and prodigious guitar playing. Their sophomore album The Greatest Part, released in 2020, was an indie rock opus that garnered acclaim from The New York Times, NPR, and more. After its release, however, Mancari was despairing. An illness in their family, coupled with a realization that their alcohol dependency had become untenable, led Mancari to begin the hard work of taking ownership of their existence by mending broken relationships and investing in their mental health. “I didn’t realize it then, but looking back, I was a passenger in my own life,” Mancari says. The transformative period of self-reckoning was the catalyst that ultimately steered Mancari to write and produce their triumphant new album, Left Hand.

While Left Hand came out of a dark period in Mancari’s life, the album is anything but. Wide-open and welcoming, the music beckons all listeners, encouraging community among strangers. On the album, Mancari asserts a radical self-acceptance. The propulsive track “It’s Too Late” binds this new album to the hypnotic rhythms of The Greatest Part, and while the lyrics chronicle personal tragedy (“I almost drove off the road that night/ Did you know I almost did it so many times?”) the bass-driven groove is undeniable, luring us deeper into the album. The bold admission is but one example of the intimacy experienced throughout the record, suggesting that music, too, has been a part of their growth and healing expedition.

Initially, Mancari planned to hire a producer on their third LP, just as they had done on earlier records, but a disheartening studio session convinced them they were capable of rendering their vision independently. Close friend and musical ally Juan Solorzano, who has played on all of Mancari’s albums since the debut of Good Woman in 2017, joined them in the studio to co-produce the majority of the record. In addition, Daniel Tashian (Kacey Musgraves, Demi Lovato) co-wrote and co-produced the song “Don’t Close Your Eyes,” encouraging Mancari to track every instrument on the initial demos, and while they had never considered themself a multi-instrumentalist, Mancari took seat on the drum throne working out the skittering percussion of the tune until it hit just right. As much as self-producing this album was an act of resilience and growth in one’s own craft, Mancari brought trusted friends like Brittany Howard, who they play with in Bermuda Triangle, Julien Baker and Zac Farro into the process. “Producing this record was life-giving. It was scary, at first, to be trusted with this role, but I knew I’d only gain more agency and strength over my career through the process,” Mancari says.

Insecurities that had dogged Mancari since childhood couldn’t weather the force of energy in that studio, where they executed decisions with newfound certainty. The title track, “Left Hand,” is named for the Mancari family crest from the Italian region of Calabria in which a left hand holds a dagger aloft. After a lifetime spent feeling like they didn’t belong, Mancari unlocked a perfect metaphor in the crest: “In many cultures children born with a dominant left hand were taught not to use that hand, and were told that using the right hand was ‘normal’ and ‘correct.’ Similarly, queer children are often times told that it’s not ‘normal’ for them to love who they love and that they need to ‘change.’”

Though Mancari has experienced that alienation, “Homesick Honeybee” is a tender ode to their grandfather, whose voicemail opens the track and who was the first member of their family to wholly accept Mancari’s queerness. “When a bee loses its way, it can’t survive without a hive.” Mancari ponders, “It physically dies without its community.” But fortunately, their grandfather was always a supportive and reliable presence. You can hear the confidence and assuredness building in Mancari’s voice as they intone the opening verses over a bed of warm indie synths, and when the chorus hits, any sense of lostness explored in the lyrics is drowned out by the certainty of this confrontation: “How you gonna break my broken heart/ That’s already put back into so many pieces/ I can’t even feel it.”

Ecological processes rely on interdependency and Mancari uses the natural world to emphasize their own reliance on other humans, and on the life-giving Earth itself. On the album’s striking closer, “To Love the Earth,” Mancari sings of a new commitment to an undefined spirituality. “Wanna crown you in Queen Anne’s Lace/ Wanna be rebaptized but in a different kind of way,” they sing. The song sounds like a rainy morning when there is no place to be but home and the slight pitter-patter against the windows brings comfort. Fingerpicked guitars and subtle percussion are overtaken on the chorus, which swells to a point of catharsis as Mancari surrenders: “Wanna love you forever, wanna love you forever.” The “you” is unspecified, applicable to a partner, to a community, to family, to the Earth that cradles us all. “To Love the Earth” leaves us with an overwhelming sense of peace, a feeling so rarely accessed outside of music.

Left Hand is generous in this way; Mancari offers the listener a collection of songs that should be played in moments when we are in need of reassurance and encouragement. No song exemplifies this better than the ebullient track “Over and Over,” which is a reminder to friends that happiness doesn’t need to be fleeting. “I wanted to write a queer pop song that has meat on its bones,” they say. Inspired by one of many reckless and joyful hangs with dear friends in Nashville, the enlivening pop song makes a promise to them, and to the greater community Mancari embraces on this album. “There is something to the feeling/ Head hanging out of the window/ Being ok that we don’t know,” sung on the chorus over a beat replete with congas and shakers. What follows is a promise to anyone who ever feels like the greatest moments of their life are disappearing in the rearview: “We can have it like we used to, over and over and over and over again.”

Joseph

The sophomore effort from Oregon-bred trio Joseph, Good Luck, Kid is a road movie in album form, an odyssey at turns emotional, existential, and entirely literal. With their intimate storytelling and restless intensity, Natalie Schepman and her sisters Allison and Meegan Closner detail that journey in songs that careen and sprawl and often soar, ultimately spinning a narrative of life-changing transformation.

“The through-line of the album is this idea of moving into the driver’s seat of your own life—recognizing that you’re the adult now, and everything’s up to you from this moment on,” says Natalie. “You’re not completely sure of how to get where you need to go, and you don’t have any kind of a map to help you. It’s just the universe looking down on you like, ‘Good luck, kid.’”

In the making of Good Luck, Kid, Joseph deliberately strayed from the dreamy folk of their 2016 debut I’m Alone, No You’re Not, giving way to a far grittier and more dynamic sound. Produced by Christian “Leggy” Langdon (Meg Myers, Charlotte OC), the result is a nuanced breed of pop/rock built on thick drums and lustrous guitars, heavy grooves and radiant melodies. Despite that bolder sonic palette, Good Luck, Kid remains centered on the band’s crystalline vocal work, including the otherworldly harmonies that suggest a near-telepathic connection among sisters.

Kicking off Good Luck, Kid with the sweeping lead single “Fighter,” Joseph immediately prove the transcendent power of that connection, even as their lyrics speak to a nearly disastrous discord. “That song’s about how our band almost broke up,” explains Natalie. “It’s the story of the three of us wanting different things and dealing with that conflict, and eventually deciding to just keep going.” Driven by a heady momentum, Good Luck, Kid then takes on the breakneck pace of the title track, a gloriously dizzying anthem that channels the raw urgency of desire. But on “Green Eyes,” Joseph shift into a torchy poignancy, echoing the album’s undercurrent of romantic devastation. “‘Green Eyes’ is about wanting to stay with someone but giving them the freedom to walk away, and feeling the pain of realizing that they’re no longer in this with you,” Meegan points out.

On “Revolving Door”—the gorgeously sorrowful centerpiece to Good Luck, Kid—that pain reaches a heart-crushing crescendo. “As we were putting the record together, the arc that emerged was ‘Hope, Betrayal, Rebirth,’” says Meegan. “We put ‘Revolving Door’ at the middle because it’s about that moment of finally realizing ‘Okay, you don’t choose this—you don’t choose me.’ It’s the pinnacle of betrayal, and it’s the turning point for the whole album.”

With the remainder of Good Luck, Kid documenting what Natalie describes as “a rising-up out of the ashes,” Joseph grace every song with the captivating chemistry they first discovered upon forming in 2014. Spontaneously choosing their name on a trip to visit their grandfather in the Oregon town of Joseph, the band got their start playing backyard parties, and gradually amassed a devoted fanbase. Following the release of I’m Alone, No You’re Not—an album made with Mike Mogis (First Aid Kit, Jenny Lewis)—Joseph soon began taking the stage at major festivals like Bonnaroo and touring with such artists as James Bay and Amos Lee. As they brought Good Luck, Kid to life, the Closner sisters expanded on the elegant synergy of elements initially glimpsed on their debut: Meegan’s sharp melodic skills, Allison’s gift for uncovering the emotional heart of each track, and Natalie’s extraordinary songwriting instincts. “Making this album, there were so many times when we’d be trying to come up with the next verse to a song, and Natalie would pull together something amazing completely out of nowhere,” Allison recalls. “It’s like she’s some kind of magician.”

In reflecting on the quiet metamorphosis chronicled within Good Luck, Kid, Joseph hope that the album might spark a similar evolution in listeners. “For me this record is about stepping out of being a victim, and I’d love for it to help people feel like they have the power to change their own lives too,” says Meegan. In the spirit of that well-wishing, Good Luck, Kid closes out with a starkly arranged but unforgettably tender benediction called “Room for You.” “My best friend recently had a baby, and as I was holding him I had this feeling like, ‘I never want you to hurt, ever,’” says Natalie. “I love the idea of ending the record by sending people off with that message: ‘I hope the world makes room for you and your dreams.’ I know that an album can’t ever fix anything, but I hope it can be a balm whatever’s hurting, and helps people feel like they’re truly believed in.”

There is nothing like the sound of siblings singing together. Whether it’s the Beach Boys or the Everly Brothers—or, more recently, First Aid Kit—absorbing the same breathing rhythms and speech patterns adds an element to vocal harmonies that can be pure magic. With the release of I’m Alone, No You’re Not, the mesmerizing, hypnotic sound of the trio known as Joseph—made up of sisters Allison, Meegan, and Natalie Closner—joins this elite company.

“It’s just second nature, like a fifth limb that’s already on you,” says first-born Natalie. “There’s an ability to anticipate what’s going to happen and blend with it. When Meegan and Allison sing, they know exactly what I’m going to do and when.”

But the Closners didn’t actually start singing together when they were growing up in Oregon, the children of artistic parents (their dad was a jazz singer and drummer, their mom a theater teacher). Natalie was the performer—“the older sister who stood on the edge of the fireplace and told everyone, ‘Watch me!,’“ she says. Twins Meegan and Allison stayed out of her lane, joining in for their mother’s musical theater productions but otherwise avoiding the spotlight.

When Natalie was in college, she began pursuing music more seriously. The summer before her senior year, she went to Nashville to check out the scene and work on her guitar playing and songwriting. She had recorded an EP and done a few rounds of touring when a friend sat her down one day.

“It was kind of dramatic,” she says, “He took me aside and said, ‘I don’t think you really believe in this.’ It stopped me in my tracks.” She thought deeply about the music she was making and had a curious epiphany; she decided to ask her sisters if they would consider singing with her.

Initially, they didn’t really get it. “We thought she was asking us to be background singers, so we didn’t take it that seriously,” says Allison. “It was more commitment than I was expecting—I even tried to leave at one point, but after a while, I was convinced.”

A transformation occurred when the Closners were in the process of recording their first album, Native Dreamer Kin. At the time, they were calling themselves Dearborn, but their producer felt that the name didn’t fit the strength of the music. They went to visit their grandfather Jo, in the eastern Oregon town of Joseph. Allison made a playlist for the trip and called it “Joseph,” which is what influenced the band’s name.

“Once she said it, it just hit us all—that’s what this is and who we are, these are the sounds of the land that we’ve lived on,” says Natalie.

With this new sense of themselves, Meegan and Allison began taking a more active role in the group’s songwriting. Meegan notes that while the process was a “totally new journey” for her, it felt similar to the candor and vulnerability of her long-time journaling—just “pulling out the gold and arranging that into neater lines.”

She and Natalie both point to the song “Honest” as a keystone for the development of I’m Alone, No You’re Not. “We were trying really hard to write a song, but nothing was coming,” recalls Natalie. “One night, Meegan was working on some lyrics and getting frustrated, so she wrote in the margin of the page, ‘I can’t say a true thing. It’s hard to be that honest.’ Immediately after that, her most honest sentence spilled out—‘There’s always two thoughts, one after the other: I’m alone. No, you’re not.’ And she thought, ‘Oh, there’s the song.’ “

Meanwhile, the group was cultivating a devoted fan base in the most traditional ways possible: touring the Western states playing living room shows, backyard parties, and secret house party gigs; reaching an audience directly through such platforms as Noisetrade; selling their self-released CD and building a loyal following step by step. By the time they were approached by ATO Records, Joseph had already built a strong community of fans on its own.

As they moved toward making their second record, the project took an additional turn when the Closners decided to work with some other songwriters in Los Angeles. “We were afraid of it at first because the songs were more pop than we were used to writing,” says Meegan, “but as we internalized them, they started becoming super-important to us.”

They point to “More Alive Than Dead,” co-written with Ethan Gruska, as an example of these contributions. “That song describes an experience with a partner where you have hard things in your combined past,” says Natalie. “You’re haunted by them until you realize that those things are dead, and as long as you dwell on them, you’re missing the real live person in front of you.”

She adds, though, that Gruska was critical in clarifying and sharpening the nuanced emotion of the lyric. “When Ethan sent us back the demo, I lost it, He was able to see the heart of the song and bring it out, cut to the core of what I was trying to say.”

Finally, the women of Joseph recorded the album with acclaimed producer Mike Mogis (Bright Eyes, Jenny Lewis, First Aid Kit) at his studio in Omaha. He was able to open up their expansive, evocative vocal sound with powerful and striking arrangements, adding depth while highlighting their haunting intensity.

“This was our first time doing a recording like this,” says Natalie, “and we learned so much about creativity. Mike is a genius, and he’s just a total maniac as a musician, so he took these bare bones songs and brought them to life with lush, gorgeous textures and sounds.”

The initial reaction to the music on I’m Alone, No You’re Not has been remarkable. Joseph was selected as a #SpotifySpotlight artist, and booked for festivals including Bonnaroo, Pickathon, and Sasquatch even prior to the release of the single “White Flag,” a song inspired by an article predicting a massive earthquake for the Pacific Northwest.

“Reading that created a heaviness that was making us jumpy, scared, and miserable,” says Natalie. “It became clear we had two options: be scared and cowering, backing away from the world into paralysis, or keep moving and live. Defy fear. Wear peace. Find better ways to love the people in our lives instead of huddling together like frightened sheep thinking about earthquakes.”

Most rewarding for the Closner sisters has been feeling the audience response to the new songs, as they tour supporting such artists as James Bay and Amos Lee. “This is really when you learn what’s special about a song, or if it’s special,” says Natalie. “It’s this crazy firecracker thing that happens—‘Am I feeling something? Is anyone? What is this song, what does it do, which parts make the most sense?’

“It really is about connection with people, and we’re so grateful we’ve gotten the chance to do that. This has been a totally wild journey, and we’re constantly blown away with possibility of what could be.”