STATE HOUSE SESSIONS

Into the great wide open:
the avett brothers
return to red rocks

Their best work is seamless, pulled from the same thin air that whips itself around the steep hills thousands will climb to see them. Amongst the scenery, as rough to the touch as the crags on the cliffs and as precious as the terrain that stretches on and on until it’s all but out of focus - unable to be perceived beyond the blurred colors separating the landscape from the sky - are the ingredients to the noise they make. Because their sound, the essence of what they do, is as breathtaking a phenomenon as the view in every direction for miles. When nightfall comes, they will glow against the mountains, coming to life like a carnival of light, burning like a candle in the dark. “I want to fit in to the perfect space,” they once sang. “Feel natural and safe in a volatile place. And I want to grow old, without the pain, give my body back to the earth and not complain.” They were younger then. Full of piss and vinegar. But they were always looking inward, heeding the complications of this life, trying, as we all do, not to buckle under their weight.

Walking out to thunderous applause, the cheers of a welcoming audience gradually faded into the frayed edges and clamoring vocals of “Distraction #74.” It was a jubilant start to a set that would wind its way through time, tracing their history across a catalogue that is twenty-five years in the making. Along the way, concert goers react to what’s next with elation, mouthing the words to songs that either premiered in stadiums or debuted in bars with too much smoke and not enough people, back when no one knew their name. They return to Morrison, Colorado’s most famous stage every July, and on this day - night two of three at Red Rocks Amphitheater (07-12-2025) - there was something about seeing them in the middle of such vastness, that made perfect sense. They’ve always had a big sound, worthy of a place like this to call home for three nights in a row. Though that sound has always landed close to the bone, bound by something deeply human and extraordinary. A force of nature in its own right. “The sky trades the moon for the sun,” they later sang during “Left on Laura, Left on Lisa,” probably unaware that their words appeared to complement a different transformation that was happening all around us. Because with one deep breath, what was left of the daylight was practically gone. It was just before 9PM, and a different image was beginning to materialize. The sandstone that was every shade of rust red in the heat of the afternoon had changed its complexion completely, becoming a type of crimson it can only be after dark. All while spotlights washed over the mountains in waves of every color, painting even the sharpest points of every jagged rock.

In the past, there were aspects of their live show that felt combustible, like the wheels could fall off at any moment. And back when they were all fire and gasoline, it was thrilling to watch them light a match and explode. The energy they carry now is a different one, more reflective of where their own long strange trip has led. “We’re trying to get the accurate number of how many times we’ve played Red Rocks, and we think tonight or tomorrow may be forty times,” Scott Avett says at one point, and it’s immediately shocking to realize that the years have moved that fast. The band officially began in 2000, when Scott and younger brother, Seth, began playing with bassist Bob Crawford. Every project they’ve embarked on since has been personal and permanent - a fixed expression of where they all were then, set in stone. Though the collaboration between the groups two principal songwriters has seen them develop and share one collective creative voice. Over the course of two and a half decades, it has remained a complex and profound offering. “November Blue,” “Denouncing November Blue (Uneasy Writer),” “Rejects In The Attic,” “Head Full of Doubt/Road Full of Promise,” “No Hard Feelings” and “The Ballad of Love and Hate,” were just some of the near twenty-five songs the band played when they were artfully framed against the sky, each note sounding positively pristine as their melodies traveled towards the stars.

“How far is heaven? Is it in the air we breathe?” Scott asks early on, during “Forever Now.” He held his microphone close and wandered off into the crowd, a tiny speck among the mountains, surrounded by an audience that might have just believed it was close, however fleeting that feeling may have been.

By Caitlin Phillips
07.21.25