Monday, February 28, 2011
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
FENECH-SOLER - 2.8 @ Rough Trade Records
Five pounds for a vinyl single and a wrist band to a free show? Yes, thanks. I went into this show only hearing their latest single "Demons." Thought it was decent, a more simple Passion Pit. Honestly, I was a littel apprehensive because I figured a show at a record store would be an un-plugged, acoustic set -- not exactly the best situation for a techno-snych rock band.
I felt like I was walking into Harpers Ferry when I walked into their show tonight, though. Nothing was stripped about this show. It should have been played at House of Blues, the sound was that profound.
Three songs into their set i realized: holy shit no ones playing an instrument. OK, that's a lie,
there was a guy on drums. But their set was composed of synths. How could this be possible without anyone realizing? Of course, as soon as I realized this the two synth-ers jumped on bass and guitar for another poppy dance electronica rock feel-good rock song.
Six songs in: at this point, you could somehow say the band all contributed to percussion in some way. The singer every once in a while turns around to band on a few drums he presumably stole from his drummer's set, and the synth's were so tight they were pretty much percussion for a good portioin of each song. After they killed "Demons," "Lies" made you cry, and that was it. Fenech-Soler are more human than Passion Pit, and that's worth the world.
I felt like I was walking into Harpers Ferry when I walked into their show tonight, though. Nothing was stripped about this show. It should have been played at House of Blues, the sound was that profound.
Three songs into their set i realized: holy shit no ones playing an instrument. OK, that's a lie,
there was a guy on drums. But their set was composed of synths. How could this be possible without anyone realizing? Of course, as soon as I realized this the two synth-ers jumped on bass and guitar for another poppy dance electronica rock feel-good rock song.Six songs in: at this point, you could somehow say the band all contributed to percussion in some way. The singer every once in a while turns around to band on a few drums he presumably stole from his drummer's set, and the synth's were so tight they were pretty much percussion for a good portioin of each song. After they killed "Demons," "Lies" made you cry, and that was it. Fenech-Soler are more human than Passion Pit, and that's worth the world.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
KITES - 1.5 @ Notting Hill Arts Club
My first introduction to British indie could not have been more cliché. Kites was headed by a Brandon Flowers lookalike with Flock of Seagulls 
hair and piercing eyes, body movements rigid and spastic, skinny white jeans and European pointy-toed Shoes. They were a Killers-meets-Bloc-Party band, an indie style so mass-produced in the states but possibly even moreso here in London. But Notting Hill Arts Club's Death to Disco Wednesdays had kids lit up by cheap beer and technicolor light shows, so Kites was perfect for the night. Clubbers danced like they were on E infront of the band -- they ate it up. When their set was finished, Kites posed for a few photos, and went about their night never to be seen again as the DJ blasted M.I.A. and Lady Gaga. Most often despised, a generic British underground indie band was the perfect welcome to London gift.
hair and piercing eyes, body movements rigid and spastic, skinny white jeans and European pointy-toed Shoes. They were a Killers-meets-Bloc-Party band, an indie style so mass-produced in the states but possibly even moreso here in London. But Notting Hill Arts Club's Death to Disco Wednesdays had kids lit up by cheap beer and technicolor light shows, so Kites was perfect for the night. Clubbers danced like they were on E infront of the band -- they ate it up. When their set was finished, Kites posed for a few photos, and went about their night never to be seen again as the DJ blasted M.I.A. and Lady Gaga. Most often despised, a generic British underground indie band was the perfect welcome to London gift.
FUN. with STEEL TRAIN and POSTELLES - 12.3 @ Royale
The Fun. show was exactly what you'd expect -- fun. But let's start with Postelles. Typical Hives/Vines/Strokes kind of a band, but great to get the vibe going. The hipster population increased tenfold from what the Theatre District usually sees (apparently I missed the memo on plaid). Moving on. Steel Train's Jack Antonoff (also in Fun.)
brought the fun to Royale in a way that was sickenly sweet. At moments it was like eating an entire container of frosting -- seems like a good idea at first, but half way through it's just way too much of a good thing. The band wrote a song for a children's performance entitled "It's Fun to Dance," whose lyrics were literally, "It's fun/to dance/it's really fun to dance." Yes, it was endearing, but until "Road Song," you could not take the band seriously.
And then the band gathered in a semi-circle center stage to sing their ballad about living their lives as traveling musicians, an ode to anyone who's ever fumbled with a steel guitar to himself, traveling alone down a dirt road without a clear destination, just enjoying where he is at that moment.
When Fun. came on, I'm pretty sure half the crowd expected the show to turn into a Format concert, with Nate Ruess staring blankly into space and focusing on singing a song, stuck in his own head rather than connecting with the audience.
But this was the first time I had seen Nate actually smile. This was the first time I had seem him
appearing to actually have fun while performing. Hopefully that was the point of making this band. They opened with "Be Calm" and the rest of the night was a good time from then on. And in the ambiance of Royale, with gold plated, royally painted ceilings and red-lit bars, we could have easily been watching the hippest circus performance Boston has ever seen.
brought the fun to Royale in a way that was sickenly sweet. At moments it was like eating an entire container of frosting -- seems like a good idea at first, but half way through it's just way too much of a good thing. The band wrote a song for a children's performance entitled "It's Fun to Dance," whose lyrics were literally, "It's fun/to dance/it's really fun to dance." Yes, it was endearing, but until "Road Song," you could not take the band seriously.And then the band gathered in a semi-circle center stage to sing their ballad about living their lives as traveling musicians, an ode to anyone who's ever fumbled with a steel guitar to himself, traveling alone down a dirt road without a clear destination, just enjoying where he is at that moment.
When Fun. came on, I'm pretty sure half the crowd expected the show to turn into a Format concert, with Nate Ruess staring blankly into space and focusing on singing a song, stuck in his own head rather than connecting with the audience.
But this was the first time I had seen Nate actually smile. This was the first time I had seem him
appearing to actually have fun while performing. Hopefully that was the point of making this band. They opened with "Be Calm" and the rest of the night was a good time from then on. And in the ambiance of Royale, with gold plated, royally painted ceilings and red-lit bars, we could have easily been watching the hippest circus performance Boston has ever seen.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
PARACHUTE - 10.27 @ The Paradise
Tonight was a three hour lovesong about girls no where near the stage, but I'm pretty sure the crowd just brushed that fact off. With openers like Joe Brooks and Hot Chelle Rae, Parachute must have just gotten a marketing agent to calculate the band's target audience, and booked the openers accordingly.
Not to bash the openers, of course. When Joe Brooks, all the way from the UK, started
singing about missing a faraway love, I was sold. From the first chord the John Mayer swagger is immediately obvious, with an attempt at Dave Matthews Band soul and a BBMak poster face (throwback). The kid had talent, though. His almost un-plugged set (althought I'm not sure how plugged-in you could have gotten with him) made girls fall in love, especially with a Maroon 5 cover snuck inbetween two verses of a song that you might not have caught, except that Brooks's voice couldn't have been a closer match at the higher notes.
Then out of no where, Hot Chelle Rae came bursting in like they didn't give a fuck. Picture a California garage band whose
look was meticulously chosen and guided by their manager: Russel Brand hair, tattoos that probably don't really mean anything (angel wings and a cross? come on), and jeans so tight all the girls grabbing at the band could literally grab what they wanted. But after tearing them apart for the first two songs, they, too got me with their Yellowcard hooks and Cartel/The Academy Is... pop/punk. Love songs, love songs, love songs.
And then Parachute, a happy medium between the guitar-dependent and hipster. Frontman Will Anderson was so attached to his songs that his face was pained, unable to hold in the emotion dripping from each heartbroken verse. How can you deny a band who covers Springsteen's "I'm on Fire"? And besides all of the sensitivity, about two minutes into every song was so full of energy it sounded like an unplanned tangent more commonly heard during an encore (which never happened at this show, consequently).
Sure, the show was filled with 16-year-old girls who are just experiencing the pain of getting turned down by guys they think they're in love with and experimenting with anorexia
because they hate themselves and want attention. I sound harsh, but every girl has been there at one point, so you just have to get over it. And sure, the bands thought they wer epic because there were camera flashes in their face every five seconds, even though the flashes only happen so frequently at a show only girls go to. But Parachute, and even their openers, deserve respect for going hard at a show that could have easily been performed by going through the motions. What a love song.
Not to bash the openers, of course. When Joe Brooks, all the way from the UK, started
singing about missing a faraway love, I was sold. From the first chord the John Mayer swagger is immediately obvious, with an attempt at Dave Matthews Band soul and a BBMak poster face (throwback). The kid had talent, though. His almost un-plugged set (althought I'm not sure how plugged-in you could have gotten with him) made girls fall in love, especially with a Maroon 5 cover snuck inbetween two verses of a song that you might not have caught, except that Brooks's voice couldn't have been a closer match at the higher notes.Then out of no where, Hot Chelle Rae came bursting in like they didn't give a fuck. Picture a California garage band whose
look was meticulously chosen and guided by their manager: Russel Brand hair, tattoos that probably don't really mean anything (angel wings and a cross? come on), and jeans so tight all the girls grabbing at the band could literally grab what they wanted. But after tearing them apart for the first two songs, they, too got me with their Yellowcard hooks and Cartel/The Academy Is... pop/punk. Love songs, love songs, love songs.And then Parachute, a happy medium between the guitar-dependent and hipster. Frontman Will Anderson was so attached to his songs that his face was pained, unable to hold in the emotion dripping from each heartbroken verse. How can you deny a band who covers Springsteen's "I'm on Fire"? And besides all of the sensitivity, about two minutes into every song was so full of energy it sounded like an unplanned tangent more commonly heard during an encore (which never happened at this show, consequently).
Sure, the show was filled with 16-year-old girls who are just experiencing the pain of getting turned down by guys they think they're in love with and experimenting with anorexia
because they hate themselves and want attention. I sound harsh, but every girl has been there at one point, so you just have to get over it. And sure, the bands thought they wer epic because there were camera flashes in their face every five seconds, even though the flashes only happen so frequently at a show only girls go to. But Parachute, and even their openers, deserve respect for going hard at a show that could have easily been performed by going through the motions. What a love song.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
BROKEN SOCIAL SCENE - 9.17 @ House of Blues
You go into a performance of a band like Broken Social Scene knowing you’ll hear some great stuff, but realistically having a feeling that there will be some of your favorite songs that just simply cannot be performed, those instrumental pieces with obscure effects and distortions. But the decade-old band has figured some things out in its lifetime – most importantly, how to give a crowd what it wants.
The stage was not big enough for Broken Social Scene. Members ran from stage left to stage right, from percussion to synth to vocals,
from a flute to a guitar to banjo. They were all over the place, just so their music could keep it together in the most beautiful fashion.
Everyone was captivated by the third song, “7/4 (Shoreline)”. BSS played out its set list pulsing feel-good jams from You Forgot it in People and their self-titled, a few oldies and a few ballads. Half way through their super-long-but-no-one-really-minds set, Broken Social Scene surprised all of their longtime followers with a performance of “Guilty Cubicles”, written in 1999, which flowed right into Superconnected to re-energize the crowd.
As the lights faded from red to blue, Kevin Drew had the crowd hold its breath with his ballad “Sweetest Kill”, of the band’s newest album Forgiveness Rock Record. It took a few minutes for everyone to shake off the melancholy, with the emotional air in the room so potent that a few people are inevitably forever changed by that song.
After playing for over 2 hours, and after 2 hours of girls in the crowd screaming, “Anthems!” Drew finally announced their next song, Anthems for a 17-year-old Girl. And still, they kept going.
A quick trip to the crowd to surf from back to front and say “Hey” to the fans was another plus. This was the first show I’ve been to where the band just simply decided not to leave and come back for the encore, knowing inevitably that they would just come right back out anyways. Instead, BSS played straight through for almost 3 hours, finally closing with a chant of “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me” during “Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Day)”, closing with the brass left to finish the chant.
The stage was not big enough for Broken Social Scene. Members ran from stage left to stage right, from percussion to synth to vocals,
from a flute to a guitar to banjo. They were all over the place, just so their music could keep it together in the most beautiful fashion.Everyone was captivated by the third song, “7/4 (Shoreline)”. BSS played out its set list pulsing feel-good jams from You Forgot it in People and their self-titled, a few oldies and a few ballads. Half way through their super-long-but-no-one-really-minds set, Broken Social Scene surprised all of their longtime followers with a performance of “Guilty Cubicles”, written in 1999, which flowed right into Superconnected to re-energize the crowd.
As the lights faded from red to blue, Kevin Drew had the crowd hold its breath with his ballad “Sweetest Kill”, of the band’s newest album Forgiveness Rock Record. It took a few minutes for everyone to shake off the melancholy, with the emotional air in the room so potent that a few people are inevitably forever changed by that song.
After playing for over 2 hours, and after 2 hours of girls in the crowd screaming, “Anthems!” Drew finally announced their next song, Anthems for a 17-year-old Girl. And still, they kept going.
A quick trip to the crowd to surf from back to front and say “Hey” to the fans was another plus. This was the first show I’ve been to where the band just simply decided not to leave and come back for the encore, knowing inevitably that they would just come right back out anyways. Instead, BSS played straight through for almost 3 hours, finally closing with a chant of “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me” during “Ibi Dreams of Pavement (A Better Day)”, closing with the brass left to finish the chant.
BLUE SCHOLARS with MALKEMORE - 9.16 @ The Paradise
A room full of white college kids from Seattle can surprisingly be a refreshing environment for a hiphop performance. Malkemore was the big surprise of the night, 
getting the crowd amped way before Blue Scholars even made an appearance. Lyrics about appreciating where you've come from, costume changes, making the crowd get their hands up and cheezy jokes about getting robbed of their CD cases make Malkemore an act to be enjoyed; you can't take your eyes off him.
As you start to sweat and your arms get tired of staying up and swaying from side to side for so long, you start to wonder how you'll survive the main act's performance. But as Blue Scholars jumped up on stage, everyone forgot how exhausted they already were and got their second wind for the Scholars' island beats and heavy-beated tracks over indie songs like Modest Mouse's "Float On."
Another breath of fresh air came after their performance when the guys stuck around to sign autographs and say hey to everyone who came out to the show. This appreciation is vital for up-and-coming hip hop artists (for anyone up-and-coming, really), and it payed off. There was not a single disappointed soul after that show.
getting the crowd amped way before Blue Scholars even made an appearance. Lyrics about appreciating where you've come from, costume changes, making the crowd get their hands up and cheezy jokes about getting robbed of their CD cases make Malkemore an act to be enjoyed; you can't take your eyes off him.
As you start to sweat and your arms get tired of staying up and swaying from side to side for so long, you start to wonder how you'll survive the main act's performance. But as Blue Scholars jumped up on stage, everyone forgot how exhausted they already were and got their second wind for the Scholars' island beats and heavy-beated tracks over indie songs like Modest Mouse's "Float On."
Another breath of fresh air came after their performance when the guys stuck around to sign autographs and say hey to everyone who came out to the show. This appreciation is vital for up-and-coming hip hop artists (for anyone up-and-coming, really), and it payed off. There was not a single disappointed soul after that show.
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