Randall Moore taught me how to play the triangle in the green room at the Ark. I love the triangle. Like the tambourine, it provides an immediate quality-of-life improvement. We often gigged together back when our bands stank, heckling one another delightedly. As this rivalry developed into friendship, the Ragbirds developed into a hell of a band.

I’ve always been critical of the Ragbirds – if only because I’ve heard them play 45 times. I’m glad that I was asked to write about it for iSPY because I might not otherwise have listened to “We Belong to the Love.” I must say that I came to a deeper understanding of the Ragbirds music through this album.

The highlights from two shows on September 28 and 29, 2012 were compiled to make this record. It should be noted that it’s not a complete start-to-finish show. The intent was to document the band’s live sound while delivering as much of a polished final product as possible. To that end, it doesn’t sound like any live recording I’ve heard. The audiences heard one mix, but the stage signal was split to a separate console to record and mix what we hear on the album. Two additional mics recorded the room, which was faded in enough to remind the listener that this was performed for a hooting-and-hollering crowd.

The Ragbirds are cooking on this set, as we’ve come to expect. They’ve put in the work and the mileage – there’s nothing like playing 1,000 shows to tighten up the sound. Fans will recognize most of the tracks as staples of Ragbirds live sets, giving new listeners an up to date introduction to the band. “Six Wheels on the Road” is a tidy and charming pop number. TJ Zindle is at his shredding rock ‘n’ roll guitar best on “Good.” (I recommend applying excessive loudness to your home stereos for that track.) “Romanian Train Song” is better if you have a beer in your hand that you don’t mind spilling everywhere (and friends who don’t mind having it spilled on them). It functions best live, and my only critique is that the recording feels disjointed at this point. Everything is so nice-sounding that when it comes time to revel in the mud, you can still hear all the notes perfectly. The Blind Pig only sounds this way through the soundboard headphones. Of course, Erin Zindle (vocals, violin, accordion, mandolin) and Dave Schall (engineer) were the driving creative forces behind the work, and, knowing them, I should’ve expected this quality. The performances are outstanding and expertly mixed, giving an audiophile as much reason to celebrate as a long time fan.

It’s difficult to pay any attention to lyrics at concerts. There’s so much happening and so much extra noise that I rarely give thought to rhyme, meter, form or imagery. It’s enough for me that the singer is in tune. Listening through headphones, I heard Erin like she was sitting at the same table. It’s even possible to hear TJ and Lauren Kranz’ individual vocal timbres on the harmonies – a near impossibility at a noisy gig. So I’d not noticed, until this point, that the lyrics are thoughtful, artful and clever. As it turns out, I do want a hopeful voice telling me, “Something’s beginning to crack/there’s light seeping into the black.” On some other day I might call it corny, but the Ragbirds make me believe it. I’ve always been aware of their good songs, nice solo breaks and harmonies, but for the first time I understood Erin’s lyrics and I realized she means it.

I even enjoyed the finale monologue on the topic of keeping grateful hearts. I’m particularly grateful for the innumerable times when I showed up at a festival with no rations, the Ragbirds always offered to share their snacks. These songs come from the same spirit of generosity and gratitude.