Who I desperately want to see: M83 (times a million because all SF tour dates are sold out), The Shins (who I might at least get a chance of seeing on tour elsewhere), Radiohead, Miike Snow
Who I have seen but want to see again: The Horrors, Beirut, The Hives (they were opening for Maroon 5, and I was forced to pay $60 just to see an opening act, and it was only 30 minutes, and it hardly counts, and if you can't tell I'm still bitter about the whole situation), Nero, Kaskade
Who I want to see for fun: Neon Indian, Andrew Bird, Childish Gambino, Justice, Girl Talk, Arctic Monkeys, Bon Iver, and pretty much everyone else.
I saw this today and for a split second thought I might try to postpone a trip to Europe to go. But it's completely impractical in regards to work and money and life. Thankfully my close friends aren't going, so I don't have to be completely jealous and sad about being left behind. Still... sigh... this is one of the best lineups I've seen in a long time.
My last post was lackluster, I'll admit. I just couldn't bring myself to write down the fact that the show wasn't entirely enjoyable. I love The Horrors. Apparently their fans can be assholes, though. This crowd had a handful of the weirdest and most obnoxious people I've ever shared a dance floor with, and it just about ruined it for me.
To make up for this I want to remember the good times I had when I saw the band live for the first time, back in 2009. The Horrors were opening for The Kills and it was one of the best times of my life.
First, I must say that I rather enjoy attending a show where I like the opening band better than the headliner. The crowd may not be as worked up as I am, but there's something wonderful in having people give you breathing room while watching the performance.
The songs on "Primary Colors" are the perfect mix of atmosphere and rock, making it a true experience to witness live. "Scarlett Fields" is one of my favorite tracks because of this show. I will always remember seeing Faris Badwan stuffing the strobe light under his shirt, holding it to his body while the rest of the room was in darkness as he sang, "See yourself, an image in the eyes of someone else." The fleeting light paired with the music was beautifully haunting.
This is the image of The Horrors that I want to remember. The last show was a good performance, but the atmosphere of that night in The Fillmore couldn't be matched.
*Here are some grainy as hell photos from the show, which are actually just stills from some grainy as hell video. Obviously, I lacked a decent camera at the time.
Poor lighting made it difficult to get a decent non-flash photo, and the quality of the uploads make them seem darker than when I look at the originals. Oh well! Hope you enjoy them anyway.
The house lights went down and the guy next to me slid on his Rayban Wayfarers. "How hipster can you be?" I thought.
The band appeared on stage by walking through an illuminated doorway. They took their places, and with the first note, a bright, white light flashed straight into the face of the audience.
As I blinked and squinted at the stage I realized: that guy wasn't being pretentious—he was prepared.
Quickly the blinding light subsided and as soon as the crowd was able to regain its senses, everyone was dancing. This wasn't one of those shows where a few people self-consciously bob their heads along to the beat; every single person was in constant motion. The bright flashes of light would return at just the right times during the apex of a song to take that energy even further until the crowd was literally jumping.
The energy from the stage was just as hot. Three songs in and the band member's shirts were already soaked through with sweat.
Lead singer Dan Whitford enchanted the crowd with his awkward/cool dancing and chitchat. He would make interpretive motions with his arms and hands to the lyrics, which I found amusing. He frequently thanked the audience, his voice carrying a slight similarity to Mr. G of Summer Heights High.
With that voice, he crooned the best from the band's most recent two albums, as well as "Saturdays" from their debut.
About halfway through the set he told the audience that the show was going to be turned up a notch. The dancing in the audience became more frenetic and carefree at the same time. I haven't sweat that much since P.E.
Still, my sweat-level was nothing compared to that of guitarist Tim Hoey. He played with his teeth, he played by jamming a drumstick through the strings, he played by mashing the face of the guitar against any surface he could find. He also played the maracas rather enthusiastically. At the end of the set he dove into the crowd with his tambourine in hand and surfed as he played the little chimes that no one could actually hear. At the end of it all I shook his slimy, sweaty hand—the evidence of a good night.
This was the third night in a row the band had played. Friday night was Coachella, Saturday was also at The Regency. It's amazing to me that night after night these guys can deliver. Whitford, however, was humble and attributed the success to the audience.
"When we said we wanted to play Sunday night too, they said it couldn't be done. They said we couldn't get people to come out on a Sunday night and get them to dance," he said. "Well, you proved them wrong."
**I was too busy dancing to get photos, so check some out here
Ignore previous mentions of Ra Ra Riot. For a variety of reasons, which I will not bore you with, I was unable to attend their show tonight. I hope they put on a lovely show and all in attendance have a good time.
I'm not sure what the next concert will be, but I hope something crops up soon! I can't wait to see a live act again.
It's been a bit quiet around these parts lately, so I figured I'd write a quick recap of my impressions of this year's shows.
When I first saw the lineup of shows to attend I was excited and overwhelmed at the same time. For some reason it seems as though the shows I want to see are always bunched around the same time of year. Can't they be spread out a little? Oh well, it made for lots of excitement in the fall.
My favorite show of the year was Jónsi, hands down. The stage setting and effects were incredible, almost beyond description. The whole room transformed convincingly into his own world, and every note resonated with me. It was the best overall "package" that I think I have ever seen at a show.
Going into this year, I would have guessed that Sufjan would have been my favorite, but I was hoping for the theatricality of his shows prior to this new album. It was still a treat to finally see this prolific artist--and especially to hear him talk so intimately about his creative process--but it wasn't the musical experience I was hoping for.
Another solid show was The Walkmen. They never fail to impress me, and their opening acts were thoroughly enjoyable. This was one of the best setlists I have seen them perform, and the high energy made for a fun night of dancing.
Panda Bear was fascinating and memorable because I had never seen a show like that before. Just a man on stage, almost ignoring the audience as he entertained us. I was intrigued by the projections and the way he segued from one song to the next, but after seeing Jonsi, this seemed like kids play. This is the guy you would want to DJ a party, whereas Jónsi should be writing the soundtrack to your life.
Sadly, the most disappointing show had to be Gogol Bordello. It had nothing to do with the performance of the band--their energy was infectious--but rather the obnoxious audience and overall atmosphere of the venue.
Another one that I am shocked to say is in the bottom is Cold War Kids. I loved being able to shoot photos and be so close to the band; the venue was small and intimate. Unfortunately the new songs failed to stir anything in me. I'm still waiting to see if I change my mind when I listen to them again, but even an otherwise perfect performance seemed a bit lackluster.
Well, here's to hoping that 2011 will have some wonderful new things in store. I'm looking forward to getting things started right away with Ra Ra Riot this month!
The tiny stage at Harlow’s is just a couple feet off the ground, making it seem like the band is within arm’s length.
I felt like I could reach out and touch the band if I wanted to. Actually, I know I could have because somebody tried.
At the beginning of the encore set, some girl pushed her way to the front and crawled up on stage. Standing on her knees she draped herself over the piano and made an inaudible request of lead singer Nathan Willett.
This awkward moment was the only downside to the show at this small, intimate venue.
I could see bassist Matt Maust spit between songs, and I could read the setlist a few feet away.
The show was a mix of new and old songs. The new tracks seem to be lacking that characteristic sound I love, but I will hold my reservations until the next album arrives.
As usual, they played energetically and maintained a crisp sound.
I was happy to be able to use my new camera for the first time at a concert. All photos were taken with a Nikon D300 with a 50mm manual focus lens.
Stars whizzed past and it was clear we were traveling to another dimension.
The sky was in constant motion, the stars moving about to form new constellations, and Sufjan promised to guide us “as we venture into the other world.”
Acclimating to this new world was a bit of a culture shock—the old Sufjan world of middle America and bird wings was light years away from the rocket ships and aliens and never-ending stairways into space.
The old familiar sounds were also left behind. String arrangements were replaced with synthesizer and autotune.
After exploring this new landscape for a few songs, the audience gained a better understanding of the new world.
“Maybe some of you are disappointed,” Sufjan said.
He acknowledged that his new album, The Age of Adz, is significantly different from the work that he has done in the past. It wasn’t by accident that the new music took on a “cosmic character,” he said.
Sufjan wanted to challenge himself to create something unlike anything he had done before, and to accomplish this he had to ditch all of his old conventions.
“I wanted a different approach in sound exploration,” he said.
He ventured into an “abyss of sound exploration,” which he cited as often being an aimless and endless journey.
The past two years were a difficult time, Sufjan said. One of the new songs captures his emotions during his struggle.
“Vesuvius” is about life, and how the constant struggle uphill sometimes leads you to the top of a volcano. The song is about the prospect of jumping into a big vat of lava, he said.
“But I’m still here, my heart is still beating,” he said.
The crowd cheered and then the song began.
Sufjan continued to tell anecdotes and stories throughout the night. He spent a lot of time detailing the inspiration behind the album, specifically how he was influenced by the artwork and life of the late Royal Robertson.
After learning about Royal, Sufjan said that he was inspired to work in a similar manner.
“I wanted to write from sensation, from instinct,” he said.
Sufjan had lunch with Royal’s wife Adell two days prior to the show, on Royal’s birthday.
He concluded his address to the audience by playing another new song.
“This is a funky jam I wrote for Royal,” he said.
Through this and many other songs, Sufjan danced the most hilarious dance. It can best be described as a pseudo-pop and lock routine, where he rolls his shoulders and makes angular, robotic arm movements, and occasionally shuffles his feet.
This video has an example of the dancing. It's not the same show or song (some of the dancing here is more energetic and specific to the song, but at about 4:40 it's similar to what he did throughout the show). Other examples can be found all over YouTube and Tumblr, but this one had the dancing that most looked like what I remember.
When “Impossible Soul” played, some audience members laughed at the autotune. Sufjan didn’t seem to be taking himself too seriously at this point either because he donned a golden pharaoh headpiece, glittery gloves and neon shutter shades.
This gesture of inhibition seemed to transfer to the audience. As the song built into climax, a few people jumped out of their assigned seats to dance, and soon the whole audience was on its feet.
By the end of the journey, Sufjan convinced the audience that this new world was worth the journey.
Time is slipping away from me. Actually, it feels more like it's running away.
The point is, I will post about Sufjan soon.
It was a fascinating show, and I can't wait to share it with you. Life has just been throwing a lot at me lately (other people's deadlines take precedent over my own, unfortunately).
Sit tight, it will happen.
In other news, In a week I will be seeing Cold War Kids for the third time.
With every beat of the kick drum, a burst of light broke from a far corner of the stage. It was like someone was trying to break through a hidden doorway into the fantastical world Jónsi created.
Throughout the performance, it felt like we were witnessing magic.
A barren forest transformed into a page from an old illustrated encyclopedia, and as it burned away a swarm of butterflies emerged. Rain dripped down windowpanes, and the water level rose into a flood just on the other side of the glass.
There was no doubt that Jónsi was the ruler of this universe because he commanded everything with the sound of his voice. Lights would flash with each crescendo, and fireflies would dance gracefully to the harmonies.
The audience was also caught in his spell.
Several audience members held their hands up in the air as if they just needed to reach out to him, to feel that little bit closer. They weren’t waving or pumping their fists; they just stood with hands outstretched. Some pressed their palms together, as if in prayer.
For the encore, Jónsi briefly left the stage and he emerged donning a feathered headdress. Clouds began to gather overhead. A burst of lightning. The boom of thunder. He was summoning a storm with his music in some kind of rain dance.
Soon the storm filled the room, the darkening clouds swirled about in the projected sky, and the thunder and lightning came crashing in waves. The storm grew to overwhelming proportions, and even Jónsi's angelic voice blended into the cacophony.
But just as the storm was summoned, it departed again with the calming of the music. Rays of sunshine burned through the clouds and it was peaceful. All that was missing was the smell of fresh rain.
*** Sadly, my camera has recently been out of commission and the one I'm borrowing was too large to try to sneak in without a photo pass. Photos can be found on Flickr with a search or through the Last.fm event tag. However, please note that these photos cannot possibly do justice for the event.
The crowd at The Senator Theatre in Chico was about one-third the size of an audience at The Fillmore, but the energy was beyond anything I had seen before.
I don't know if it was the type of crowd that Gogol Bordello draws, of if it was a difference due to the locations, but it was the oddest amalgamation of people I had seen in one place.
At times I could hardly pay attention to the show because I was intently people-watching.
I saw two separate incidences of top hats. One man in overalls and pigtail buns. Bros. Moms. Goths. Hippies and hipsters.
The fact that all these different people came together for this show was almost too on the nose with the symbolism.
The audience was incredibly receptive of the opening act, Forro in the Dark. Normally I see opening acts get lukewarm participation, but the audience cheered and danced as if they were the main attraction.
When Gogol Bordello hit the stage, that energy multiplied.
Eugene Hütz took off his outer shirt, swung it around and crashed it into a cymbal. As the show progressed, he removed even more clothes, including his shirt emblazoned with "Rio Bazil," a former home of his.
The crowd followed along every time Elizabeth Chi-Wei Sun ran to the front of the stage and pumped her fist in the air to the beat. They shouted the lyrics right back at the band as they played.
Although the energy was impressive for the size of the crowd, the way it was expressed was often off-putting. Obnoxious drunks that are extra loud and energetic isn't something that I consider a positive. Various items were thrown onstage, including cups and glowsticks, some nearly hitting band members.
Looking back, the performance was great, but the people at the show left me with a bad taste. I can only hope that next time I attend a show at this venue the audience won't ruin it.
This was the fourth time I have seen The Walkmen perform, and each time has been brilliant.
Over the years, The Walkmen have become one of my favorite bands. It came as a bit of a surprise to me because they don’t stand out or have a distinct signature sound that I can pinpoint, but they have been consistently good without being redundant.
The show kicked off with Dan Mangan, who played upbeat indie folk that got the crowd cheering and moving; a rarity for a relatively unknown opening act, in my experience. To close the set, Mangan played the song “Robots,” and he coaxed the crowd into singing along.
“Robots need love too,” the audience cooed. “They want to be loved by you, they want to be loved by you.”
He jumped down into the crowd and played next to audience members like they were old friends at a local gig.
The tone changed dramatically when Japandroids stepped onto the stage.
Everything about their set reminded of a high school garage band.
Fuzzed out guitar and crashing drums created as much noise as they could muster.
Guitarist Brian King snapped his head about so frenetically that I could only be amazed that he managed to keep his balance throughout the set.
After each song, King quickly inserted an awkward “thank you” to the audience. Considering the amount of buzz this band has been receiving, their earnestness made me think they truly had just stepped straight out of their parents’ garage.
These two strong opening acts were a great build up to The Walkmen.
Out of all the times I have seen them play, I felt that this was their best set. The song choices were spot on, mixing the best tracks from their previous albums with plenty from Lisbon, which was released that day.
When the opening melody from “We’ve Been Had” started to play on the piano, I could feel the smile appear on my face. It’s one of my favorites, and the rest of the crowd loved it too.
One young woman in the audience was particularly excited throughout the set.
“I love you, Hamilton!” she shrieked between sips of beer. “You’re the love of my life!”
Paul Maroon, who way playing piano at the time, overheard this profession and grimaced. My friend had the same reaction and they made eye contact as they shared one of those moments when you know exactly what the other person is thinking, because you’re thinking the same thing too.
The girl continued to declare her love throughout the set while the band did their best to ignore her. At one point a man in the audience mimicked her and shouted loving praise to the band, and everyone on that side of the audience couldn’t help but laugh.
Despite the distractions, the band played perfectly and kept the crowd dancing.
To end the night, they played their encore standard and fan favorite, “The Rat.”
Photos courtesy of Rachel at ohdeerly.blogspot.com, with some editing by me
It reminded me of a pretentious art-school student’s experiment in sending subliminal messages through film – in a good way.
Distorted images washed in neon colors flashed across a screen, as Panda Bear stood hunched over his sparse equipment in the center of the stage.
“It’s kind of creepy,” a young woman behind me said.
The audience quickly fell into a trance, and the music and projections never ceased for the hour-long set.
Panda Bear played some familiar tracks from previous albums as well as newer material that will appear on his upcoming album, Tomboy, which currently has no set release date. He even treated the audience with reworked versions of Animal Collective songs from their latest release, Merriweather Post Pavilion.
The lyrics sounded familiar, but the songs were different enough to make the audience question if what they were hearing was new or old.
Lovers kissing and embracing flickered across the screen as he sang out, “I really want to do just what my body wants to do.”
A nearby couple took that as a suggestion.
The songs segued seamlessly from droning tunes to bass-heavy beats that rivaled any club anthem. Audience members danced and bobbed about until the rhythm gave way to a reverberating hum once again.
When the music stopped, it was like being snapped out of a dream. One blink and the incomprehensible images in front of my eyes were gone. The stage was empty. Back to reality.
I went to my first concert when I was barely a teenager. My heart just hasn't been the same since it felt that first thump of the bass beating in my chest like an arrhythmia.
Some of my best memories come from the foot of the stage. I will relive them here in writing and photos.
I have already checked off 2 out of 5 concerts planned for September and October, which I will post about shortly. I will also recount my earlier adventures, including:
The Walkmen with Modest Mouse
Franz Ferdinand
Bright Eyes with Sons & Daughters
Interpol
The Strokes
Arcade Fire
Beirut (with a special celebrity appearance!)
The Hives
Cold War Kids
The Horrors with The Kills
The Treasure Island Music Festival, featuring Grizzly Bear and many more
The September/October bundle of shows:
Panda Bear
The Walkmen
Gogol Bordello
Jónsi
Sufjan Stevens
Please stay tuned, I look forward to sharing this part of my life with you.
