LaMontagne aided his cause with an absolutely beautiful voice whose every nuance seemed to constitute a new confessional. ''I've been saved by a woman . . . she won't let me go," he sang in ''Trouble," as again, some women nodded to every word. His vulnerability came across all night: ''You will shelter me, my love, and I will shelter you. . . . I'm so lonesome without you. . . . Maybe we can make this last a lifetime."
Some of this was mushy beyond belief -- and seemed like grist for greeting-card sentiments. But it was also oddly fresh and appealing at this point in time. This was parlor music for a post-hippie generation that wasn't there for the original baring of soul by the Stevens/Taylor/Manuel crowd. As such, it was maybe new to them -- and who's going to rain on such a parade of good will? Better to hear a male admit his weaknesses than to come off as yet another techno-fried robot. At least that was the moral of this night.
LaMontagne played acoustic guitar throughout (along with some harmonica attached Dylan-style around his neck), and most songs were conveyed in a duo format with upright bassist Christopher Thomas, a highly credentialed Los Angeles player who has worked with Macy Gray, Everlast, and Joshua Redman. Thomas was amped to the point of distraction on some tunes, though, thus cramping LaMontagne's love pleas. It was better when LaMontagne played some solo acoustic numbers, especially ''Hannah," where one could hear a pin drop when he asked her to ''be kind to me."
LaMontagne proved that he's a great singer, though this was not a great show given some of the technical difficulties. But his gimme-shelter spirit is becoming more popular by the day; he'll return to Boston to headline Avalon on April 1 (with Rachael Yamagata). Look for tickets to go on sale soon.
Opening act Willy Mason delivered a promising set. Only 20 years old, he grew up on Martha's Vineyard as the son of well-respected folk singer Jemima James, who joined him effectively on a few songs (to the point that Mason joked, ''You're stealing my show, mom!"). But Mason, who sounded at times like a young country-blues cousin of Paul Geremia, confidently kept the spotlight with some winsome tunes about hitting the road (''Gotta Keep Moving") and one knockout track, ''Oxygen," about finding dignity in a crazy world. Mason also was an adept acoustic guitarist (favoring a lot of resonant, open tunings) and was joined tastefully by fiddler Nina Violet.
