Concert Review: Anjimile at Chess Club
On tour with You're Free to Go, his luminous and long-exhaled third album, Anjimile brought his homecoming to Austin's Chess Club on May 9, dispensing queer joy, Texas nostalgia, and a setlist that proves the most intimate rooms are ones that crack you open.
Written by Noah Keany
Photo courtesy of Xander Opiyo
After a decade in Boston and a pair of albums that led him through sobriety, self-discovery, and the dark weather of The King, Anjimile Chithambo has found freedom. You're Free to Go is the sound of a man who has done the difficult work and is finally, unguardedly, exhaling. Produced by Brad Cook, whose fingerprints grace records by Waxahatchee and Hurray for the Riff Raff, the album trades dense, knotted arrangements of its predecessor for warm acoustic guitars, lush strings, and what Anjimile himself has described as "breathing into the question." Austin's Chess Club, a compact and properly intimate room, was an ideal venue to absorb such emotions.
Opener alexalone took the stage at 9:12 p.m.. The Austin trio began without vocals or preamble with seven minutes of hard-hitting guitars and drums, a metal-tinged drone that the room digested with both awe and unease. Scattered vocals emerged and then retreated back into the instrumental swell into this air of shoegaze and metal in the same breath. A final dreamy guitar figure closed things out, and the guitarist offered only a quiet "Thanks y'all, we're alexalone" before stepping back.
By 10:03 p.m., Chithambo was into the title track of You're Free to Go, hypnotic acoustic strumming rippling out from the front of the room with a warmth that immediately reset the temperature after alexalone's eerie chill. The song, which opens his new album and was inspired by his embrace of non-monogamy and what he's called the question of what happens "when you let go and let love in," lasted just three minutes and ended to attentive applause. "Rust and Wire" followed immediately, clocking in at a tight three minutes of its own, and when it faded, Chithambo stepped back from the microphone and grinned.
"We are Anjimile," he announced. "I am Anjimile. This is Anjimile." He paused. "Just kidding. This is Sinclair. Let's give it up preemptively!" The crowd obliged. Chithambo then informed everyone that he himself was from Richardson, Texas and mentioned having played Denton the night before and passing the exit to his childhood home. Their bassist Sinclair, unprompted, launched into "Deep in the Heart of Texas” as the crowd sang along and clapped. "I'm not from Texas," Sinclair clarified afterwards. "I'm from North Carolina. The crowd would be taking off their shirts and spinning them above their heads where I’m from."
After the third song, Chithambo looked up from the microphone. "This next song is about being gay." One person wooed. "Wow," he said. "That was crazy. I said that and the room went silent. We're going across the country being gay." The crowd, now properly warmed, clapped and shouted in earnest. He mentioned that Nashville had been difficult. Sinclair leaned into the microphone: "I thought we were gonna get hate crimed in Nashville. After the show the guy who ran the show said 'Good job,' fist bumped us, and walked away."
"Ready or Not," the fourth song with its soft and soulful notes, acted as a vessel for what one reviewer described as crossing "an emotional bridge.” Chithambo's way of telling the world that he will not let his freedom and sense of self be snuffed out. He followed it with a love song, dedicating it to his partner. Sinclair quickly clarified: "It's not me." Then, before the laughter had fully settled: "We're brothers." The fifth song, "The Store," another track from You're Free to Go that channels Chithambo’s raw, unadorned authenticity, ended with the crowd's loudest applause of the night so far.
"I'm gonna play a couple solo tunes," Anjimile announced. "Let's give it up for Sinclair one more time!" He held his hand toward his bandmate as the crowd clapped Sinclair off the stage, then turned back to the now-quieter room. "We're gonna play a couple older ones. This next one I wrote for my grandmother."
"Here's another song about being gay," he said. The crowd wooed without hesitation and Chithambo smiled. "Technically, it's a song about being trans. I came out to my parents a couple years ago and it didn't go so well. But my dad has really come around to being a supportive parent. He actually came to my show last night." The crowd erupted in applause and cheers.
"This next one's called 'Maker.'" The seventh song ran stripped to just Anjimile and the acoustic guitar, his voice carrying the full weight of a song that was made before Chithambo’s coming out and sobriety in 2019, and has since taken on new dimensions with every live performance.
"For my next trick," he said, "I'd like to welcome Sinclair back to the stage." Sinclair returned. The eighth song opened with a booming bass guitar set against the beautiful acoustic, a contrast which was startling and deliberate. It ended at 10:36 p.m., and Anjimile looked out at the crowd.
"Alright y'all, we're coming up on the end of things." The crowd groaned. "It's been a gas," he offered. Sinclair leaned over, "Gas is really expensive." More laughter.
"Exquisite Skeleton" arrived, blooming into something even more open than its album counterpart with the guitar expanding after the song's title into the chorus like a door coming off its hinges."Afarin" followed at 10:41 p.m. and when it closed, the room erupted. "Thank you so much," Anjimile said. "This is our last song. Let's give it up for Sinclair one more time." The crowd clapped. "Feel free to say howdy at the merch table even if you aren't buying anything. I'm from Texas, so I'd love to say howdy." The final song ran to 10:47 p.m., and the applause and woos that followed did not stop for a full minute.
After the show, asked about the tour, Anjimile was direct and provided a statement that highlighted the importance of shows like these representing the unheard, "It's been amazing performing with queer bands all across the US and really being in like queer spaces."