Showing posts with label photography. Show all posts
Showing posts with label photography. Show all posts

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

This is how I am repaid: The Decemberists/Robyn Hitchcock & The Venus 3, 2009.06.06

The Decemberists/Robyn Hitchcock & The Venus 3
Tower Theater
Philadelphia, PA
2009.06.06

I never wrote about it on this site (mostly because, let’s face it, I was pretty much ignoring this site until just a couple of weeks ago), but the new album from the Decemberists, The Hazards of Love, has ranked highly on my list of the biggest musical disappointments of the year. I was excited for the album, and was prepared to fall head-over-heels in love with it; really, I was. I wanted to memorize every word and to dutifully listen to the entire saga at least once a week. I wanted this to be the album that fulfilled the widescreen ambition of “The Tain.” Instead, I found the album to be tedious, dull, confusing, unmemorable, and, ultimately, underwhelming in spite of its by-design overwhelmingness. Of course, by the time the album came out and I had gotten the chance to bask in its apparent mediocrity, I had already had the tickets for this show for a month. Although I was at first excited at the prospect of seeing the band perform what should have been its magnum opus in its entirety, I swiftly began to regret purchasing tickets for the show, especially as both Art Brut and the Roots Picnic were announced for the same date.

Flash forward to this past Saturday. After a quick dinner at Pico de Gallo and a madcap, Paperboy-inspired rush through the city, Jenn and I entered the Tower Theater and found our seats. I was excited that Robyn Hitchcock was opening the show; in fact, I was perhaps more excited to see Hitchcock than I was for the main act at this point. It must be said that I have not purchased a Robyn Hitchcock album since 1999’s Jewels for Sophia, so going into this show I assumed I would be unfamiliar with most of the material. I also was unfamiliar with the makeup of his backing band, the Venus 3. I had been aware that he had been doing some work lately with R.E.M. guitarist Peter Buck, as well as Young Fresh Fellows/the Minus 5 main man and touring R.E.M. member Scott McCaughey. What I was not aware of was that the Venus 3 was basically a stripped-down version of R.E.M. – I was shocked to see Peter Buck stroll out onto a smaller stage than I could ever reasonably hope to see R.E.M. play, along with Scott McCaughey and touring R.E.M. drummer Bill Rieflin.

The entire band was in fantastic form, and I had forgotten in the nine years since I had last seen him live just how devastatingly funny Hitchcock was in concert – the absurdity of his ramblings left one simultaneously rolling with laughter and scratching one’s head looking for comprehension. (“Well, it is June, which means that Halloween is in October this year, and this is a wonderful time to be in Philadelphia, because Halloween is coming up soon. Get ready to carve your pumpkins!”) A series of increasingly tiny tour companions/mascots being introduced (a penguin, an alligator, and a cone) presented other moments of surreal, absurd humor that seemed to confuse just as many people as they tickled.

I do not mean, however, to imply that the banter stole the show from the music. Far from it – Hitchock’s music came off as vital and energetic. Opener “I Often Dream of Trains” pleased the fair number of already-familiar fans in the audience before Hitchcock and company veered into a set comprised mostly of ear-pleasing recent material. The Byrdsian jangle of “I’m Falling” was a particular highlight to me, as well as the obvious-but-still-funny ode to media anaesthetization “Television,” Rachel Getting Married centerpiece song “Up to our Nex,” and the twenty-year-old “Queen of Wasps,” which was the only other older song played by the band. Buck’s jangly guitar style was a perfect match for Hitchcock’s whimsical songwriting style, and the newer songs played were good enough that I felt not a twinge of hesitation as I purchased a copy of the most recent album, Goodnight Oslo, and had it signed by both Hitchcock and Buck.

There is no way to build up to this effectively, so let me just cut to the chase and spoil it for you now: the Decemberists rocked it, and they managed to acquit themselves admirably and prove me wrong about The Hazards of Love. Perhaps it was the added effect of seeing the band make the transition from song to song expertly and professionally, perhaps it was the stage presence of Colin Meloy and Shara Worden, perhaps it was the chemistry that I must stubbornly admit that Mr. Meloy and Becky Stark had, or perhaps it was the fact that, as a captive audience being presented with the material at loud volume, I actually listened fully for the first time. Whatever the reason was, the fact is that the album clicked for me for the first time. Where its 60 minutes had previously seemed to drag on for multiple hours, here it flew by and left me wanting more. Where the whole piece had seemed to blend into some bloated, ultimately insignificant blur of disconnected sounds with no real songs distinguishable from the whole apart from obvious single “The Rake’s Song,” here the individual songs took shape and individual identities.

The puzzling thing about this is the fact that there was, to my ears, no difference between the studio version of the album and the live version. The Decemberists at this point are an accomplished and professional enough band to pull off a suite such as this and play it exactly as it is on record – I caught no mistakes, no timing changes, no flubbed lines or bum notes or missed drum beats. It was all perfect. Added to that is the pristine sound of the Tower – even from practically the extreme right wall of the room, there was no echo. The live mix perfectly balanced all the elements, so nobody overpowered and nobody got drowned out. The band took the stage without addressing the audience at all, and did not stop playing, speak to the crowd, or in any other way break character throughout the first set. It was a performance in the truest sense of the word.

And what a performance it was! Mr. Meloy rocked out at several times, taking obvious delight in some of the unexpectedly sludgy riffs that pepper the suite. Ms. Stark, playing the role of Margaret, had the biggest hurdle to clear; I had seen her band, Lavender Diamond, open for the Decemberists a couple of years ago, and I was none too impressed by the band and was particularly not a fan of Ms. Stark. At that show, she seemed to be conveying an image of purity, innocence, and a vaguely hippie-ish sense of idealism that felt disingenuous. Even worse, her singing voice seemed blandly unimpressive and she had no physical stage presence. I was disappointed when I had learned she would be playing a prominent role on this album. Live, however, she displayed at least an improvement in her stage presence; her first entrance as Margaret, dressed in a white bridal gown, saw her executing a provocatively sensual, undulating shimmy up to the mic, swaying in time to the rhythm established by the band, injecting a brazen and unexpected sense of sexuality into the character and the scene. While her voice still left much to be desired, it was obvious that her touring with Lavender Diamond had allowed her to grow as a vocalist.

She was completely out-awesomed on every level, however, by Ms. Shara Worden, playing the queen. In her little black dress, Ms. Worden vamped, stomped, and generally took control of the stage during her too-few appearances in the storyline. While Jenn seemed to think that Ms. Worden’s overacting was unnecessary, I respectfully disagree; to me, the queen is the kind of character that was written to be a scene- and show-stealer, and the only way to effectively play such a character is to camp it up. And camp it up she did – Worden’s larger-than-life performance on “The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid” definitely stole the show away from Meloy and elicited what sounded to me like the largest applause of any moment during the Hazards set, besides perhaps “The Rake’s Song,” which was performed by Mr. Meloy on acoustic guitar and vocals, Nate Query on electric bass, and the other five on-stage members all (!) playing drums in unison.

Of course, after playing Hazards and taking a well-deserved 15-minute break, the band were back, sans costumes, to play an abbreviated set of shorter, more self-contained, and less thematically and narratively-loaded songs.  After all the restraint he displayed during the main set, Mr. Meloy here perhaps went overboard on the banter, proclaiming himself a charter member of MACOF (Musicians Against the Calling Out of Freebird) and, in one head-scratching moment, declared that the chord change in “Dracula’s Daughter” is “douchey.” (Really, Colin? With the vocabulary you display in your songs, you choose to go there?) The music, however, was top notch, and was a great plate-cleanser after the intensity of the live Hazards experience.

The highlights here undoubtedly were saved for the climactic final two songs of the set – “The Chimbley Sweep,” which saw Mr. Meloy and Chris Funk hand off their guitars to audience members and run into the audience, shaking hands and high-fiving; and a ripping, energetic cover of Heart’s “Crazy on You,” with Ms. Worden and Ms. Stark trading off lines and verses, and Ms. Stark once again coming out of the deal overshadowed. It was an epically huge performance and was executed – imagine this – without an ounce of irony detectable. The encore stated off slowly with a performance of the rather meh Picaresque outtake “The Bandit Queen,” but improved exponentially with a singalong performance of “Sons & Daughters.”

Although I walked in to the theater convinced I was going to have a terrible time at this show, the Decemberists managed to prove me wrong, and I was humbled by the technical precision of their show, as well as by the care that went in to the visual presentation of the concert (the backdrop may have looked like nothing at first, but it really became quite a striking element of the performance). While I had started to doubt the greatness of the band, I am impressed that they managed to follow up a record that got my vote for biggest disappointment of the year with the most unexpected success of the year.

Robyn Hitchcock & The Venus 3 setlist:

I Often Dream of Trains
What You Is
Saturday Groovers
Madonna of the Wasps
I'm Falling
Television
Up to Our Nex
Creeped Out
The Authority Box
Goodnight Oslo


The Decemberists setlist:

Prelude
The Hazards of Love (The Prettiest Whistles Won't Wrestle the Thistles Undone)
A Bower Scene
Won't Want for Love (Margaret in the Taiga)
The Hazards of Love 2 (Wager All)
The Queen's Approach
Isn't It a Lovely Night?
The Wanting Comes in Waves/Repaid
An Interlude
The Rake's Song
The Abduction of Margaret
The Queen's Rebuke/The Crossing
Annan Water
Margaret in Captivity
The Hazards of Love 3 (Revenge!)
The Wanting Comes in Waves (reprise)
The Hazards of Love 4 (The Drowned)
----------------------------------------------
The Crane Wife 3
Shiny
Sleepless
July, July!
Summersong
Dracula's Daughter
O Valencia!
The Chimbley Sweep
Crazy on You
-----------------------------------------------
The Bandit Queen
Sons & Daughters


Complete set of photos from the show, as usual, can be viewed at Flickr.

Sunday, June 7, 2009

Keeping up with the motions: Grizzly Bear, 2009.06.02.

Grizzly Bear/Here We Go Magic
The Trocadero
Philadelphia, PA
2009.06.02


When I met Ed Droste from Grizzly Bear last year before Radiohead’s Camden show, I made him wince with just a few simple words: “The first time I saw you guys was at the Knitting Factory in 2005.” With a grimace, Mr. Droste replied, “God, we were rough back then.” While I would not agree with Mr. Droste’s self-deprecating and dismissive assessment of the band’s early live performances, during which they were still trying to find their collective voice, I bring it up because I think it speaks volumes about Grizzly Bear’s evident and rapid reinventon, refinement, and remodeling of its own image. In short, although the lineup is the same, the band that I saw at the Trocadero on Tuesday evening is not the same band that took the stage to open for the Mountain Goats on Halloween of 2005. (It would be unfair to compare the records, since Horn of Plenty is essentially a solo bedroom project from Droste.)

The show, which was my fifth Grizzly Bear show, although it was my first time seeing them in a headlining capacity, featured Here We Go Magic as the opening act, a band that I had heard of (most likely due to their support act slot for Grizzly Bear member Daniel Rossen’s other songwriting vehicle, Department of Eagles) but never actually heard. A quick listen to a YouTube video posted on their website told me that they basically sounded like a less trippy, more whimsical Animal Collective clone. Fortunately, their live show disproved this quick and possibly lazy assessment. The five-piece band did display myriad easily-recognizable influences – among them Animal Collective (the drummer frequently fell into a primal, insistent tom beat that only needed some delay in order to sound like an imitation of Panda Bear’s style) and Radiohead (one of the songs midway through the set featured guitar interplay eerily similar to “Arpeggi” – yet it has proven impossible for me to definitively peg down their sound or to compare them to any particular band. Which is not to say that they were shrouded in mystery; I did not find them nearly that intriguing. In fact, I was not particularly impressed until the band seemed to hit its stride during the last three songs or so of the set. The next-to-last song in particular – the one during which the singer took to the keyboards (sorry, I don’t know band member names or song titles) – was an interesting and compelling song that left me wanting more. For the most part, however, four days after seeing them play I find much of their set forgettable.

As the stage was being set for Grizzly Bear, the excitement and anticipation in the sold-out room was palpable. This is one thing that has puzzled me; while I am obviously a fan of Grizzly Bear and obviously I am happy for them and do not in any way begrudge their seemingly sudden success (yay alliteration!) and ascension into current indie rock royalty, I am not exactly sure of HOW this happened. How did such a reserved, nuanced, subtle band suddenly become one of the it-bands of the year? Surely the support slot for Radiohead last year and the media boost from Jonny Greenwood must have helped, but I am amazed by just how big they seem to have gotten nearly overnight. And my Flickr and blog support this; within 24 hours of my initial posting of the setlist on this blog and the photographs of the show on my Flickr page, both pages registered record-high numbers of hits.

However, this is a review of the show and not of the phenomenon. The setlist yielded few surprises: Very little from Horn of Plenty, a choice handful from Yellow House, and seven songs from this year’s mighty (and mighty pretty) Veckatimest. Having already seen them four times, I knew what to expect: the band sets up with all four members sharing the front of the stage; the harmonies are just as achingly beautiful live as they are on record; Chris Taylor makes lots of endearingly silly faces while singing the high vocals on “Knife” and pulls out his clarinet for some bass tones, always one of the sonic highlights of a Grizzly Bear show.

There is something about Grizzly Bear’s stage presence which I am not sure I can articulate that makes them extremely compelling and exciting to see. They are not a particularly visceral band – even during their rock-out moments, do not expect to see any of the band members jumping or thrashing about. Everything about Grizzly Bear seems to be about control and restraint. As such, apart from Mr. Droste’s slight dance moves during “Cheerleader,” there is not much movement. Every sound seems carefully considered, as if one wrong thread will ruin the overall effect of the tapestry. Yet, as careful and considered and fragile as the music seems, there is still a physicality to the music that lends the performance a weight not present in the records, no matter how close to perfect they may be.

The highlight of this show, besides the absolute gorgeousness that is “While You Wait for the Others” and the magical, rolling melody that makes “Ready, Able” such an irresistible tune was the completely unexpected introduction of special guest Victori Legrand from the band Beach House to song along with the boys on current single “Two Weeks.” Although it seemed to my ears like her microphone was a little low and her presence ultimately didn’t add terribly much to the sonic palette, the response from the audience made this feel like a capital-E Event, and immediately upped the ante for the song. Additionally, the sublime performance of “Fix It” was a personal highlight for me; although I have heard this performed several times before, it has never sounded quite so nuanced and psychedelic as it did Tuesday night. The hushed performance of “Shift” was also very pleasant, and I was happy that Grizzly Bear performed two of my favorites from the first album – unlike other bands who pretend that their back catalogs have ceased to exist (I’m looking at you, the National).

Any gripes or criticisms of the show are minor: it would have been nice to maybe hear some more full-band arrangements or re-arrangements of Horn of Plenty songs; although seven songs from Veckatimest were played, I had already heard four of these (“Cheerleader,” “Fine for Now,” “Two Weeks,” “While You Wait for the Others”) performed last summer, and so it would have been nice to have had more variety in the new selections; and while it felt great to get out of a show before 11:00pm, the set seemed just a tad short. But, as I said, these are minor criticisms thrown in so that the review doesn’t seem completely fawning. These guys grow as performers every time I see them, and they also grow as songwriters and sonic sculptors with every album. On Veckatimest, they seem to have fulfilled the promise of Yellow House and taken that sound to its logical conclusion. I am not sure where they are going next, but I will be happy to follow them.


Grizzly Bear setlist:

Southern Point
Cheerleader
Little Brother
Knife
Fine For Now
Two Weeks (w/ Victoria Legrand)
Ready, Able
Shift
I Live With You
Fix It
While You Wait for the Others
On a Neck, On a Spit
---------------------------------------
Colorado


For another perspective on the show, I encourage you to visit AK’s review on her blog.

To see all of my photos from the show, please visit my Flickr page.




Saturday, May 30, 2009

Paint the Black Hole Blacker: St. Vincent, 2009.05.21

St. Vincent/Pattern Is Movement
First Unitarian Church
Philadelphia, PA
2009.05.21 


I was first exposed to the music of Annie Clark in early 2007, months before her debut album as St. Vincent, Marry Me, suddenly and unexpectedly stole countless indie rock hearts (mine included). She was opening for John Vanderslice on a tour preparing for the release of his Emerald City album. Going into the show, all I knew about her was that she had previously played with both Sufjan Stevens and the Polyphonic Spree, and that she was apparently some kind of guitar prodigy. When she took the stage, I was intrigued by her nimble fretwork, her use of effects pedals to create layers of texture from a single electric guitar, her steady rhythm-keeping by way of a pedal-operated kick drum sample,  and her idiosyncratic songwriting style. Of course, although I would like to downplay this, the fact that she was unbelievably gorgeous did not hurt matters. By the end of her set, when she played a self-assured version of Jackson Browne’s oft-covered “These Days,” I had fallen completely in love. I immediately purchased her tour EP (happily featuring the aforementioned Jackson Browne cover) and decided to make it a point to see her every time she came to town.

I missed her every time she came to town.

In April 2008, I got my first taste of what her live show sounded like when augmented with a full band when she played the PLUG awards in NYC, playing a brief two-song set comprising “Now, Now” and “Your Lips are Red.” Where before her performance had been marked with precision, complexity, and a graceful patience, there was now an air of danger, recklessness, and ferocity. I was very excited to see a full set by St. Vincent the band.

Once again, I missed them every time they came to town.


Chris from Pattern is Movement

To cut  long story short (too late), the release of Actor, the second St. Vincent album, quickly became one of my favorite albums of the year so far, and when the band’s tour stopped at the First Unitarian basement in Philadelphia, I made damn sure I was there. Local heroes Pattern Is Movement opened; I had seen them once before, ironically, opening for North Carolina band The Physics of Meaning, which is the main gig of Daniel Hart, who also plays violin and guitar in St. Vincent. Pattern Is Movement is a 2-piece band – drums and keyboards – marked by gentle vocals that reach into the upper register of the vocalist’s range and odd time signatures with unpredictable and seemingly random changes. They kind of sound like a less aggro Dismemberment Plan, perhaps. Daniel Hart came out and played violin with them for a song or two – though, oddly, I didn’t remember them being a two-piece last time I saw them. My impression of them, however, was exactly the same as it had been the last time I saw them: although it was pretty music and definitely was a refreshing change from your standard “indie rock” band, I found that they had sort of worn out their welcome with me after about 20-25 minutes. Their set lasted for nearly 50 minutes this particular night, which was just far too long to hold my interest. The highlight was a D’Angelo cover.

I was excited to see the array of instruments being set up for St. Vincent’s set – clarinet! Saxophone! Flute! Fender Jaguar! (Seriously, does EVERY band have a Jaguar these days?) Plus the typical drums, bass, and keyboards, as well as Annie’s two guitars and trademark double microphone stand. From the opening salvo of “The Strangers” and “Save Me From What I Want” – also the first two songs on Actor – the band made it clear that although they were perfectly capable of recreating the textures and layers of the studio recording on stage, they were not interested in stopping there. The mannered, structured, orchestrated noise that ever so politely bruises the lush studio arrangement on records becomes an entirely different beast on the concert stage – there is a disquieting, threatening quality to the guitar outbursts here, a palpable physical violence in both Ms. Clark’s guitar playing and her occasional vocal outbursts (such as during the performance of single “Actor Out of Work,” which on record relies on a building tension that never resolves itself into an explosion – in performance at the Church, Clark suddenly shrieked “I think I’M FUCKING MAD!” so loudly, it ended up being the only moment of the main set that caused my recording to clip, and genuinely startled me at the time).

It was a long show – at 74 minutes, it was definitely much longer than I would have expected from an artist with two albums to her name, neither one particularly long – but it was well paced and never once felt boring or like it was dragging. The setlist was, as one would expect, heavy on the excellent Actor material, but almost to a fault – although Annie promised to mix in Marry Me material and make it a “greatest hits show,” the band only played three songs from the debut, and had already played two of those by the time she made that promise. And of course, the nostalgia lover in me would have loved to have heard her perform “These Days” either in addition to or even instead of her delicate solo reading of “Oh My God.” But these are all minor criticisms. Annie Clark has assembled a fantastic group of musicians to flesh out her arrangements, and they seem to share a hive mind of sorts. Impossibly tight and precise, the musicianship combined with Ms. Clark’s vibrant personality, witty humor, and uniquely subtle yet intense stage presence make for a compelling and entertaining live show that everyone should experience given the chance. I will definitely be in the crowd the next time Ms. Clark and crew pass through.

Setlist:

The Strangers
Save Me From What I Want
Now, Now
Actor Out of Work
Marry Me
Oh My God
The Bed
Laughing With a Mouth of Blood
Black Rainbow
Marrow
Just the Same But Brand New
----------------------------------------
The Party
Your Lips Are Red 

More photos can be found at my Flickr account.