REVIEW: Daniel Romano's Outfit Live at Bunk Bar
by Zac Bentz
Photo by Sebastian Buzzalino
Readers of Birdbath issue 1 may (or may not) remember that I, in passing, mentioned having tickets to see my favorite band play in a little sandwich shop in Portland a few Fridays ago. Well, dear flock, I saw them. And you know those clear turning-point moments in your life where it’s like, there’s before this moment and there’s after this moment, and once the moment passes you’ll never return to the way your life was before the moment passed? This was one of those moments. And I’d like to tell you about it.
For context – who is Daniel Romano’s Outfit? Daniel Romano is a multi-instrumentalist, poet, and visual artist from Welland, Ontario. After starting his own record label with Steve Lambke of the Constantines in 2009, You’ve Changed Records, he debuted in 2010 with the soft country-folk record Workin’ for the Music Man, and spent the next few years putting out a string of country records – but not the kind of country you think of when folks bring up country music in casual conversation. No, this is the type of gut-wrenching, syrupy country that makes the slide guitar feel like it belongs front and center at the Louvre. His second record, Sleep Beneath the Willow, has become a sort of Canadian country classic since its release in 2011.
In 2016, he released Mosey, which was a bit of a hard pivot to a sort of Bob-Dylan-esuqe, troubadour type sound. The beating heart of his country roots remained intact, but it marked the beginning of his transition into more experimental rock’n’roll. Think Dylan-goes-electric. His voice sounds a bit more nasally, and the production has this strange low-fi quality that makes it sound like the record was recorded playing through an old shitty radio sitting in some run-down, abandoned saloon. It’s absolutely fucking radiantly beautiful. The same year, Daniel also started up a side-project called Ancient Shapes, a power-punk Buzzcocks and Television-inspired explosion of drums, bass and overdriven electric guitar. Shapes has been active on and off since then, putting out three albums with a fourth on the way.
Then in 2017, he released undeniably the starkest departure from the sound that had launched him so firmly into the Canadian country scene – the tripped-out, psych-rock masterpiece Modern Pressure. Daniel’s voice sounds completely unrecognizable. The record overflows with weird reversed sitar, horns soaked in phlanger, and acoustic guitar solos that feel ripped straight from a Kaleidoscope record. It’s one of my favorite albums of all time, and maybe the boldest left-field shift from any indie artist in recent memory.
Daniel stayed on the psychedelic route for a little while longer, putting out a bizarre, acoustic album in 2018 called Finally Free, which he dubbed “a collection of poems in the language of love.” It was recorded on a four-track tape recorder, and is his strangest and most deeply poetic release to date. His voice oscillates and bends as though it’s being fed through a lava lamp, and the layers of acoustic guitar blend to create a truly delicious bath of warm, arhythmic psychedelia.
Enter the Outfit. Originally a backing band for Daniel’s live shows, the group quickly coalesced into a cohesive creative rock’n’roll powerhouse. The original lineup had Daniel on lead vocals and guitar, his brother Ian Romano on drums, David Nardi on guitar, Roddy Rosetti on bass, Juliana Riolino on backing vocals, and Tony “The Pope” Cicero on organ. Under the Daniel Romano’s Outfit moniker, they released the live albums Okay Wow and Fully Plugged In, and the studio records How Ill Thy World Is Ordered, Cobra Poems, and La Luna. The Outfit has morphed and changed a few times since its inception – Cicero left the group I think somewhere between Okay Wow and How Ill, folk singer-songwriter (and Daniel’s partner) Carson McHone joined on vocals and percussion between How Ill and Cobra Poems, and I’m not 100% sure, but I think Nardi may have left the group after La Luna (he’s been absent from their west coast tour, and hasn’t appeared in any official photos for a while now, but the group hasn’t mentioned anything about his departure, so who knows).
I first started listening to Daniel in January 2020, right before the onset of the pandemic, when the opening track from Modern Pressure found its way onto my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist. I fell immediately in love, because how could I not – it was everything I loved in… like… music… wrapped into a minute and fifty-nine seconds of jangly psych-country bliss. I listened to the rest of the album, then I slowly started making my way through the rest of his discography. I loved it all, but Modern Pressure really felt like something special, and was at the center of my rotation for the next month and a half.
Then the pandemic hit for real. A few weeks later, the Outfit put out Okay Wow, and it became the official soundtrack to my first month of isolation. It was the first I’d heard of Daniel’s mysterious new backing band, and I quickly came to know each member’s distinct sound with great intimacy. Roddy’s artfully complex but patiently reserved rhythmic basslines, Ian’s insane polyrhythmic fill-injected drumlines, David’s insane, crunchy rhythm guitar, Tony’s gorgeous organ (the first thing you hear on the album), and of course, Juliana’s fucking angelic vocals that complemented Daniel’s already distinctly strange voice to create harmonies that didn’t sound like anything I’d ever heard in my life.
In 2020, including Okay Wow, Daniel put out a combined total of 10 records, both with and without the Outfit. For a brief stretch of time, he was putting out a new record every Wednesday. He became the soundtrack of the pandemic for me. Completely honestly, I categorize my memories of the pandemic by which of Daniel’s records I was listening to most actively. Early to mid spring was Okay Wow, Visions Of The Higher Dream, Super Pollen, and the Outfit’s cover of Bob Dylan’s Infidels. Summer was Content To Point The Way, Spider Bite, Dandelion, and A Splendour Of Heart. Fall was How Ill Thy World Is Ordered. Winter was White Flag and Kissing the Foe. And 2021 brought not just a second stellar live album but probably my favorite of Daniel’s studio LPs, Cobra Poems, which is extra special to me because it came out at around the same time my band finished our debut album, Sweet Dreams, Goodnight.
I definitely didn’t mean to ramble on about the history of the group for so long, but the reason I included it is because I want to make it clear just how much this band, this group of people, and the singular, unparalleled artist at the center of it all mean to me. I bought my tickets while I was studying abroad back in March, and have been waiting with bated breath for this show ever since.
Mo and I drive up to Portland Friday afternoon, get dinner at a fantastic Ethiopian place, and decide to head over to the venue early to scope it out and maybe order some food before they close at 8 (doors for the show open at 9). We drive over to the venue, find a parking spot, and begin making our way toward the door. As I look up at the awning, the building suddenly feels impossibly massive. For a moment, it feels like all the blood in my body pools in my feet. What we’re doing feels suddenly bigger than either of us. And then, we look back through the door, and Roddy Rosetti walks right through it as if he’s waltzing back through the gateway to some mystical realm of rock’n’roll, giving us a nod and heading to the band’s van, which we realize is parked right behind where we’re standing. We give each other a knowing look, trying to tell each other that we’re about to pass out without actually opening our mouths.
We walk through the door, and the first thing I see is the man that’s singlehandedly carried me through the pandemic, who serves as my single most fervent creative inspiration and has created art that’s more important to me than anything else I’ve engaged with in my life, sitting hunched over on a little side table in the corner of the bar, with his legs splayed out to either side and an otherworldly, pensive look on his face. He’s virtually invisible. No one else in the room is there for the show, as we’ll learn a few minutes later, and the stage is tiny, sitting like 6 inches off the floor and with nothing separating it from the rest of the room except a couple of audio monitors. I turn to Mo and start whispering some nonsense about how that’s him, he’s right there. That’s literally Daniel Romano sitting right there. I literally feel like I’m about to pass out. We stumble up to the bar, Mo orders a drink and a meatball sandwich, and then we collapse into a booth in the back of the room.
In walks Julianna Riolino, who heads over to her guitar case in the opposite corner of the room. Then Carson McHone, who starts setting up the merch table. Then Ian Romano, carrying a handful of gear. Then Kenneth Roy Meehan, the band’s resident sound engineer, who starts setting up mere feet from where we were sitting. The Outfit is puttering around the stage, and we’re one of, like, four other people in the room. I call my partner and tell her what’s happening, because I NEED to get it out of me, I NEED to tell someone.
Mo and I start debating. Do we talk to them? This seems like a perfect opportunity to go talk to them. But they’re still setting up, and I don’t want to get in the way. But there’s no one else here, and they haven’t even started soundchecking yet, so now’s the time! But I literally don’t know what I would say.
Mo takes me by the arm and tries to steer me over toward Kenneth. I hesitate. I’m scared out of my mind. The stakes feel SO HIGH. Eventually, Mo heads to the bathroom, which is down a hallway that’s directly next to the stage. They leave, and I sit there for a few minutes, staring at the band as they walk in and out of the venue.
Moments later, Mo comes back to the table, a huge grin on their face. I stand up immediately.
“I talked to him,” they say.
“To who? Kenneth?” I ask.
Mo shakes their head.
“To Daniel Romano??” I ask.
Mo nods. “I told him we’re huge fans, and that we drove up from Walla Walla to see the show, and he smiled and was, like, ‘right on.’”
We sit back down at the table and begin plotting our next move. We decide set our sights on Kenneth, because he’s closest, and honestly, because he’s the one that makes me feel the least like I’m going to fall on the floor. Our feet pull us over to his soundboard before we’re even really aware we’ve made the decision to move, and I introduce myself and tell him that the Outfit is my favorite band of all time, and Mo tells him that they work AV and they’re a huge fan of his mixing work on Okay Wow and Fully Plugged In. He’s the sweetest – he agrees that the Outfit shreds, and makes nice conversation with us for a couple more minutes before we go back to our table.
The band begins to soundcheck one by one, and then they come together for the most beautiful live rendition I’ve ever heard of “Human Touch,” one of the songs off Daniel’s 2018 album of the same name. I go into a trance. My feet pull me closer to the stage, and I stand there, leaning against a column, my mouth forming the words as Daniel sings them, my eyes drifting open and closed completely on their own. Everything feels delayed. I’m floating at least an inch off the ground.
As soon as they finish the song, I think, fuck it. I walk up to the stage, making eye contact with Roddy as I approach. I tell them that they’re my favorite band in the world, speaking directly to Daniel, then I turn to Juliana and congratulate her on the release of her debut album All Blue, which had come out that morning. She thanks me with what may have been the warmest smile I’ve ever received. I sit back down happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
Later, as folks are starting to file into the venue, Roddy comes up to me and asks my name. We shake hands and exchange warm smiles.
The rest of the evening is a blur. I took my spot right at the front, my hands gripping the audio monitor that would ultimately end up right between the feet of Daniel and Juliana. Carson McHone opened, with the whole band backing her up, and it was absolutely resplendent. I went into a trance again as soon as they started playing, and I didn’t have a single thought of my own until they stepped off stage again.
For context – who is Daniel Romano’s Outfit? Daniel Romano is a multi-instrumentalist, poet, and visual artist from Welland, Ontario. After starting his own record label with Steve Lambke of the Constantines in 2009, You’ve Changed Records, he debuted in 2010 with the soft country-folk record Workin’ for the Music Man, and spent the next few years putting out a string of country records – but not the kind of country you think of when folks bring up country music in casual conversation. No, this is the type of gut-wrenching, syrupy country that makes the slide guitar feel like it belongs front and center at the Louvre. His second record, Sleep Beneath the Willow, has become a sort of Canadian country classic since its release in 2011.
In 2016, he released Mosey, which was a bit of a hard pivot to a sort of Bob-Dylan-esuqe, troubadour type sound. The beating heart of his country roots remained intact, but it marked the beginning of his transition into more experimental rock’n’roll. Think Dylan-goes-electric. His voice sounds a bit more nasally, and the production has this strange low-fi quality that makes it sound like the record was recorded playing through an old shitty radio sitting in some run-down, abandoned saloon. It’s absolutely fucking radiantly beautiful. The same year, Daniel also started up a side-project called Ancient Shapes, a power-punk Buzzcocks and Television-inspired explosion of drums, bass and overdriven electric guitar. Shapes has been active on and off since then, putting out three albums with a fourth on the way.
Daniel stayed on the psychedelic route for a little while longer, putting out a bizarre, acoustic album in 2018 called Finally Free, which he dubbed “a collection of poems in the language of love.” It was recorded on a four-track tape recorder, and is his strangest and most deeply poetic release to date. His voice oscillates and bends as though it’s being fed through a lava lamp, and the layers of acoustic guitar blend to create a truly delicious bath of warm, arhythmic psychedelia.
Enter the Outfit. Originally a backing band for Daniel’s live shows, the group quickly coalesced into a cohesive creative rock’n’roll powerhouse. The original lineup had Daniel on lead vocals and guitar, his brother Ian Romano on drums, David Nardi on guitar, Roddy Rosetti on bass, Juliana Riolino on backing vocals, and Tony “The Pope” Cicero on organ. Under the Daniel Romano’s Outfit moniker, they released the live albums Okay Wow and Fully Plugged In, and the studio records How Ill Thy World Is Ordered, Cobra Poems, and La Luna. The Outfit has morphed and changed a few times since its inception – Cicero left the group I think somewhere between Okay Wow and How Ill, folk singer-songwriter (and Daniel’s partner) Carson McHone joined on vocals and percussion between How Ill and Cobra Poems, and I’m not 100% sure, but I think Nardi may have left the group after La Luna (he’s been absent from their west coast tour, and hasn’t appeared in any official photos for a while now, but the group hasn’t mentioned anything about his departure, so who knows).
I first started listening to Daniel in January 2020, right before the onset of the pandemic, when the opening track from Modern Pressure found its way onto my Spotify Discover Weekly playlist. I fell immediately in love, because how could I not – it was everything I loved in… like… music… wrapped into a minute and fifty-nine seconds of jangly psych-country bliss. I listened to the rest of the album, then I slowly started making my way through the rest of his discography. I loved it all, but Modern Pressure really felt like something special, and was at the center of my rotation for the next month and a half.
Then the pandemic hit for real. A few weeks later, the Outfit put out Okay Wow, and it became the official soundtrack to my first month of isolation. It was the first I’d heard of Daniel’s mysterious new backing band, and I quickly came to know each member’s distinct sound with great intimacy. Roddy’s artfully complex but patiently reserved rhythmic basslines, Ian’s insane polyrhythmic fill-injected drumlines, David’s insane, crunchy rhythm guitar, Tony’s gorgeous organ (the first thing you hear on the album), and of course, Juliana’s fucking angelic vocals that complemented Daniel’s already distinctly strange voice to create harmonies that didn’t sound like anything I’d ever heard in my life.
I definitely didn’t mean to ramble on about the history of the group for so long, but the reason I included it is because I want to make it clear just how much this band, this group of people, and the singular, unparalleled artist at the center of it all mean to me. I bought my tickets while I was studying abroad back in March, and have been waiting with bated breath for this show ever since.
Mo and I drive up to Portland Friday afternoon, get dinner at a fantastic Ethiopian place, and decide to head over to the venue early to scope it out and maybe order some food before they close at 8 (doors for the show open at 9). We drive over to the venue, find a parking spot, and begin making our way toward the door. As I look up at the awning, the building suddenly feels impossibly massive. For a moment, it feels like all the blood in my body pools in my feet. What we’re doing feels suddenly bigger than either of us. And then, we look back through the door, and Roddy Rosetti walks right through it as if he’s waltzing back through the gateway to some mystical realm of rock’n’roll, giving us a nod and heading to the band’s van, which we realize is parked right behind where we’re standing. We give each other a knowing look, trying to tell each other that we’re about to pass out without actually opening our mouths.
We walk through the door, and the first thing I see is the man that’s singlehandedly carried me through the pandemic, who serves as my single most fervent creative inspiration and has created art that’s more important to me than anything else I’ve engaged with in my life, sitting hunched over on a little side table in the corner of the bar, with his legs splayed out to either side and an otherworldly, pensive look on his face. He’s virtually invisible. No one else in the room is there for the show, as we’ll learn a few minutes later, and the stage is tiny, sitting like 6 inches off the floor and with nothing separating it from the rest of the room except a couple of audio monitors. I turn to Mo and start whispering some nonsense about how that’s him, he’s right there. That’s literally Daniel Romano sitting right there. I literally feel like I’m about to pass out. We stumble up to the bar, Mo orders a drink and a meatball sandwich, and then we collapse into a booth in the back of the room.
In walks Julianna Riolino, who heads over to her guitar case in the opposite corner of the room. Then Carson McHone, who starts setting up the merch table. Then Ian Romano, carrying a handful of gear. Then Kenneth Roy Meehan, the band’s resident sound engineer, who starts setting up mere feet from where we were sitting. The Outfit is puttering around the stage, and we’re one of, like, four other people in the room. I call my partner and tell her what’s happening, because I NEED to get it out of me, I NEED to tell someone.
Mo and I start debating. Do we talk to them? This seems like a perfect opportunity to go talk to them. But they’re still setting up, and I don’t want to get in the way. But there’s no one else here, and they haven’t even started soundchecking yet, so now’s the time! But I literally don’t know what I would say.
Mo takes me by the arm and tries to steer me over toward Kenneth. I hesitate. I’m scared out of my mind. The stakes feel SO HIGH. Eventually, Mo heads to the bathroom, which is down a hallway that’s directly next to the stage. They leave, and I sit there for a few minutes, staring at the band as they walk in and out of the venue.
Moments later, Mo comes back to the table, a huge grin on their face. I stand up immediately.
“I talked to him,” they say.
“To who? Kenneth?” I ask.
Mo shakes their head.
“To Daniel Romano??” I ask.
Mo nods. “I told him we’re huge fans, and that we drove up from Walla Walla to see the show, and he smiled and was, like, ‘right on.’”
We sit back down at the table and begin plotting our next move. We decide set our sights on Kenneth, because he’s closest, and honestly, because he’s the one that makes me feel the least like I’m going to fall on the floor. Our feet pull us over to his soundboard before we’re even really aware we’ve made the decision to move, and I introduce myself and tell him that the Outfit is my favorite band of all time, and Mo tells him that they work AV and they’re a huge fan of his mixing work on Okay Wow and Fully Plugged In. He’s the sweetest – he agrees that the Outfit shreds, and makes nice conversation with us for a couple more minutes before we go back to our table.
The band begins to soundcheck one by one, and then they come together for the most beautiful live rendition I’ve ever heard of “Human Touch,” one of the songs off Daniel’s 2018 album of the same name. I go into a trance. My feet pull me closer to the stage, and I stand there, leaning against a column, my mouth forming the words as Daniel sings them, my eyes drifting open and closed completely on their own. Everything feels delayed. I’m floating at least an inch off the ground.
As soon as they finish the song, I think, fuck it. I walk up to the stage, making eye contact with Roddy as I approach. I tell them that they’re my favorite band in the world, speaking directly to Daniel, then I turn to Juliana and congratulate her on the release of her debut album All Blue, which had come out that morning. She thanks me with what may have been the warmest smile I’ve ever received. I sit back down happier than I’ve ever been in my life.
Later, as folks are starting to file into the venue, Roddy comes up to me and asks my name. We shake hands and exchange warm smiles.
The rest of the evening is a blur. I took my spot right at the front, my hands gripping the audio monitor that would ultimately end up right between the feet of Daniel and Juliana. Carson McHone opened, with the whole band backing her up, and it was absolutely resplendent. I went into a trance again as soon as they started playing, and I didn’t have a single thought of my own until they stepped off stage again.
When the band was prepping to hit the stage again, I made eye contact with Roddy, and we exchanged a knowing look of excitement. Then they hit the stage, and they fucking RIPPED through their setlist. I was jumping up and down, screaming along to the words of every single song they played, even the three songs they played from All Blue (although I really only knew the choruses). Juliana and I kept making direct eye contact and scream-singing directly at each other, and at one point during one of my all-time favorite songs, All The Reaching Trims, she knelt down, got really close to me, and pointed the mic at me – for a moment, we were mere inches apart, screaming into each other’s faces, feeding off each other’s frenetic energy, and I’ve never screamed as loudly as I screamed into that mic. During their encore, some of the folks next to me started moshing, and when I felt a hand grip my shoulder, I joined in, and let loose in a way I don’t think I ever believed I was capable of.
After the set, totally in a daze, we found ourselves out on the sidewalk, where Daniel, Juliana, and Carson were sharing a cigarette. We thanked them for the show, and they smiled at us and thanked us for coming, and Carson thanked me for singing along. Back inside the venue, we waited in line to hit the merch table.
Lugging our hauls out onto the sidewalk, we ran into Roddy one final time. He thanked us for coming, and we thanked him for playing – an exchange so rooted in the ritual of intimate shows that it almost feels cliché. Then, he asked us if we were in a band. I said yes – and realized I had a spare Wind-Up Birds sticker collecting dust in my pocket. As I fumbled around with my jacket, trying to dig it out, he told us to send our band’s info to the Outfit’s Instagram, and that the next time they were in Portland, they would give us a call. Mo and I looked at each other, baffled. Profusely, we thanked him, but still tried to play it as cool as we could.
Our composure vanished as soon as we made it, like, twenty feet down the sidewalk. We jumped and skipped and high-fived and squealed and said holy shit and oh my god so many times the words started to lose their meaning. I realized I couldn’t hear shit, and started to accept the fact that I probably wouldn’t have a voice the next day. But I was happy.
For days after, so much as thinking about the show sent me into an emotional tailspin. I wasn’t able to start writing this until five days later. But I feel like I had to get this down, to solidify and immortalize what was probably the single greatest night of my life. Daniel, Juliana, Roddy, Carson, Ian, if any of you are reading this, thank you. I know I’ve already thanked you a hundred times over, but thank you for giving me the greatest show I’ve ever seen, for making my body move in ways I didn’t know it could, for welcoming me into your world for a few hours, for sharing the mic with me. I love you all.
After the set, totally in a daze, we found ourselves out on the sidewalk, where Daniel, Juliana, and Carson were sharing a cigarette. We thanked them for the show, and they smiled at us and thanked us for coming, and Carson thanked me for singing along. Back inside the venue, we waited in line to hit the merch table.
Lugging our hauls out onto the sidewalk, we ran into Roddy one final time. He thanked us for coming, and we thanked him for playing – an exchange so rooted in the ritual of intimate shows that it almost feels cliché. Then, he asked us if we were in a band. I said yes – and realized I had a spare Wind-Up Birds sticker collecting dust in my pocket. As I fumbled around with my jacket, trying to dig it out, he told us to send our band’s info to the Outfit’s Instagram, and that the next time they were in Portland, they would give us a call. Mo and I looked at each other, baffled. Profusely, we thanked him, but still tried to play it as cool as we could.
Our composure vanished as soon as we made it, like, twenty feet down the sidewalk. We jumped and skipped and high-fived and squealed and said holy shit and oh my god so many times the words started to lose their meaning. I realized I couldn’t hear shit, and started to accept the fact that I probably wouldn’t have a voice the next day. But I was happy.
For days after, so much as thinking about the show sent me into an emotional tailspin. I wasn’t able to start writing this until five days later. But I feel like I had to get this down, to solidify and immortalize what was probably the single greatest night of my life. Daniel, Juliana, Roddy, Carson, Ian, if any of you are reading this, thank you. I know I’ve already thanked you a hundred times over, but thank you for giving me the greatest show I’ve ever seen, for making my body move in ways I didn’t know it could, for welcoming me into your world for a few hours, for sharing the mic with me. I love you all.
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| From left: Ian Romano, David Nardi, Daniel Romano, Roddy Rosetti, Carson McHone, Julianna Riolino |
Great write up. Saw them (twice now) in Minneapolis and they destroyed everyone's mind in the room. Complete rawk clinic. So good.
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