I walk north on Sheffield with the facade of the Vic in view. A woman walks toward us in a Bears #15 jersey, and I offer to my friend: “Marshall or Odunze? Ten bucks.” “Marshall,” he says. The woman walks past us, we turn around, and we read the letters: MARSHALL. We head into the theater, grab some beers, head to the floor, and wait for Wyatt Flores to come on stage. My friend offers another bet: “Alright, double or nothing. Will he come out in a Halloween costume?” “I’m gonna say no,” I answer reluctantly. Ten minutes later he comes onto the stage, wearing some sort of farmer/redneck costume. It is a stupid costume and I am down $20 before the show has even started.
Wyatt Flores is a country singer, so I am sorry to stray from the alternative realm which makes up this blog. With this being said, Flores is a storytelling artist that stays well away from the superficial pop country genre, despite being a young star. He is influenced by indie singer-songwriter types, which was blatant in his covers of Jason Isbell and The Fray on this night. Supporting his first album Welcome to the Plains, Flores was a refreshing burst of charisma on the stage. It was a pleasure to hear him show off his incredible vocal ability. He smiled and laughed, and at just 23 years old, commanded the hall that was filled with the 1500 odd people mostly of his generation.
A hopeless romantic, Flores’ lyrics often depict heartbreak in his American experience, from his hometown of Stillwater, Oklahoma, all the way up to Milwaukee. This loveless American kid motif remained throughout many of the songs he played over the course of the night. This was displayed best in “Break My Bones,” “Please Don’t Go” and “Oh Susanna.” He moved nicely between more acoustic songs to electric rocking songs, while the content of the lyrics remained steadily within that of a heartbroken youth. The mood of smiling through it all changed in a captivating way during the final song before the encore. “West of Tulsa” had a tone shift of anger and passion that was previously unseen. This was still there and even more exaggerated with the first song of the encore, “Stillwater.” This movement was one that I hope Flores can build on in future compositions. Flores has potential, but must expand on his lyrical range. The final song of the night “Don’t Wanna Say Goodnight” was a nostalgic sendoff, where the subject seemed to be the audience more than it was the girl in the story.