Grace Potter and the Nocturnals
Time Warner Cable Uptown Amphitheatre
Oct. 5, 2012

After finger-picking an intro while letting the audience know the song is about having a "little too crazy" friend whose life ended too soon, Potter began "Stars" from the band's latest album, The Lion The Beast The Beat.

Having seen Potter a handful of times — from the early days at the Visulite Theatre a few years ago, through festivals like Bonnaroo and larger venues including the Fillmore — I went into the show expecting the usual amount of blues, soul and rock in a high-energy performance.

However, with her stripped down version of "Stars," Potter not only offered a more intimate view of her persona, but exposed another side of her songwriting. While the song has a slow bluesy roll on the album, in this acoustic format, it bordered on country. While Potter could easily become "just another pretty face" with growing popularity and building fame, she still puts the music first.

Fiona Apple
The Fillmore
Sept. 26, 2012

It's always profoundly sad to watch a troubled artist melt down onstage. We’ve seen it with Scott Weiland, Courtney Love and Axl Rose, and we saw it Wednesday night when Fiona Apple's performance at the Fillmore in Charlotte turned into a train wreck of tragic and frustrating proportions. It’s not the first time Apple has gone off the rails on stage. Even at her most lucid, she’s an eccentric — and that eccentricity is part of the reason we love her and her music.

• Photo by Jeff Hahne

But when Apple appeared in the spotlight just after 9 p.m., more gaunt than ever, her face pasty and hair a dull reddish-brown, things went awry from the get-go. She warbled her words, couldn’t reach the high notes, couldn’t stay on the beat. She squirmed at her piano seat during the once-majestic and nuanced “Shadowboxer,” the third song of the night, as her voice totally blew out on the vulnerable line, “You have no reverence for my concern.”

The audience ate it up. People sang to all the words. They helped pick her up when she was clearly so very down.

Mary J. Blige
Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre
Sept. 15, 2012

• Photo by Jeff Hahne

“Empty Prayers” may not be one of Blige’s most memorable ballads, but the grit and passion with which she delivered it Saturday night made it one of those quintessentially Mary J. moments in a 90-minute set that often felt as much like the sharing part of a 12-step meeting as it did a concert. It was Blige’s second Charlotte appearance this month, falling closely on the heels of her performance at the Democratic National Convention. It also was the final night of her Liberation Tour with fellow tortured titan of '90s soul D’Angelo, whose relatively low-key half-hour set featured sometimes radically altered versions of his well-known songs like “Brown Sugar” and “(Untitled) How Does It Feel."

Both D’Angelo and Blige have talked publicly of their struggles with substance abuse, and on Saturday Blige reminded the Charlotte audience of her dark period after a simmering performance of the healing title song from her 2001 album No More Drama, which rides a sample of the melancholy piano theme to '70s soap opera The Young and the Restless. Blige almost died in the early '90s, she told the audience, and it was her fans who helped see her through it. “I love y’all,” she said. “Thank you for staying with me. Thank you for not leaving me. I need y’all.” Then she led the crowd in a singalong on her cover of Chaka Khan’s 1975 hit with Rufus, “Sweet Thing,” from Blige’s 1992 debut, What’s the 411?

Metric w/ Half Moon Run
The Fillmore
Sept. 17, 2012

For the most part, Metric's 15-song set cruised along as expected — energetic synth-rock driven by the vocals and high-stepping of singer Emily Haines. Set against a wall of square lights, the band cruised through a handful of hits — including "Youth Without Youth," "Help I'm Alive" and "Gold Guns Girls" — and songs from its latest album, Synthetica.

However, it was the last of a trio of encore songs that stood out from the pack. Haines and guitarist James Shaw stood front and center of the stage, bathed in a few white lights and performed an acoustic version of "Gimme Sympathy." It not only gave Haines time to shine as a vocalist against a simpler backdrop, but brought forth a stronger connection to the 1,000 or so people in attendance.

The song was the perfect bookend to a night that got started with a 40-minute set by Half Moon Run. The Montreal-based quartet drew growing applause throughout its set as the band won over the crowd with a combination of sparse indie-folk, stellar harmonies and, at times, heavy percussion.

106.5 The End Weenie Roast f. Garbage
Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre
Sept. 16, 2012

Manson was clearly in the spotlight — literally — from the moment the quintet hit the stage. As her bandmates — drummer Butch Vig, guitarist Duke Erikson, guitarist Steve Marker and touring bassist Eric Avery (formerly of Jane's Addiction) — sat in the shadows, the flame-haired fireball practically did an aerobics workout as she bounced around the stage singing hit after hit.

Wearing a pair of boxing shoes, 46-year-old Manson was in fighting form with her vocals, displaying perfect power and poise despite obvious in-ear monitor problems. While sound may have been an issue on stage, the band sounded great from the amphitheatre — the kickdrum and bass providing enough booming low-end to the band's upbeat pop-rock anthems.

Kendrick Lamar, Ab-Soul
The Fillmore
Sept. 12, 2012

• Photo by Jeff Hahne

It was the kind of crowd one doesn’t often see on Charlotte’s hip-hop scene: primed, standing-room only and eager to dance — or at least, bust a two-step with the screw face. Opener Jay Rock commented on
the diversity of the attendees: college-age and older, with a healthy mix of street and boho elements —
natural-hair lifestylers stood bumper-to-bumper with girls in lacefronts and 6-inch heels.

“This is what I like to see. Different colors, with music bringing us together. I’m from the projects, but I want you to know y’all are just like me, and I’m just like you,” Rock said, before launching into “Just Like Me,” a slow-burn manifesto against gang banging.

Stalley and Ab-Soul also did their thing, with Soul drawing boos for greeting “Charlottesville, North Carolina, mane!” A speedy apology later, and he proceeded to rock the show like he was the headliner. The slight-framed rapper, in all red and shades with a shag puff hanging out the back of his cap, recalls a young Eazy E, until you start processing the street talk, math, revolution and sex rhymes he tosses with equal aplomb. He managed to rail against SOPA, encourage voting (“Fuck Mitt Romney”), remember Alori Joh—his best friend and vocalist who died earlier this year of apparent suicide—squeeze in nine songs and plug his upcoming release, Control System, all within a half-hour set. I suggest you cop that.

Lamar walked dead into his set rapping, no intro, and the crowd screamed along, word for word. His voice gravelly and energy high, he went straight for the wide vein of angst, horniness and vulnerability that has helped him rise so fast. Then he switched gears. “I’ma play what’s in my iPod,” he said, as the first notes of J. Cole’s “Perfect for Me” rang out. He managed to look convincingly surprised when Cole stepped out onstage to join him. The effect on the crowd was like cranking up the volume to Spinal Tap’s 11.

Allman Brothers Band
Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre
Aug. 3, 2012

Outdoor shows at venues rarely go past 11 p.m. due to the threat of hefty fines. So, maybe it was a thanks to fans who braved the night's sudden rains or perhaps the band was just enjoying the performance but, either way, the Allman Brothers Band threw caution to the wind and let its Aug. 3 concert at Verizon Wireless Amphitheatre roll on until 11:20 p.m.

Lindsey Buckingham
Neighborhood Theatre
July 31, 2012

Dressed in jeans, black shirt and a jacket, the gray-haired Buckingham hit the stage and opened with "Cast Away Dreams" from his solo album, Under the Skin.

Receiving a brief standing ovation after the opening song, Buckingham smiled and said thank you before grabbing a new guitar and starting the next song. It was a pattern repeated often in the night as Buckingham and crowd alike seemed to enjoy every moment of the performance.

There were no requests taken, no changing of the setlist and no drama in the performance — he simply stood in the spotlight and showed his talents as a musician, singer and songwriter.