By the time I finally had the chance to see Deerhunter, I was convinced of two things: they were a good band, but they only had four good songs. I was hoping that the live show would be as good and as intense as their best recorded moments, and that it might help to shed some light on all of their other songs, which didn’t interest me. I had all of my questions answered, and witnessed plenty of other strange, entertaining things.


Ex Models opened the show: they were loud, and at their best, fast, hyper, and abrasive for lack of a better word. Entertaining for a few songs, but not really my thing.

Deerhunter was clearly the main event, and they sold out the Bowery, as expected. The anticipation among the rabid blogger and Pitchfork obsessives was palatable. But, in all fairness, when your previous Todd P show in Bushwick draws all sorts of indie celebrity fans and you get a blowjob on stage, documented for posterity, I’d expect nothing less. I wish I would’ve been there. I’m very pro-blowjob.

Deerhunter were intense: when the drums locked in and the band started grooving, it felt good and showed why they’ve risen so quickly this year. The vocals were much thinner than I expected from listening to the record. However, that didn’t particularly matter: Bradford Cox is a stalking, looming, charismatic presence on stage that is equally entertaining and freakish. The band feeds off of his tremendous energy, and the show feels continuous. The instrumental, effect driven interludes make sense live in ways that I don’t hear on the record. The releases of the songs didn’t rock quite as hard as I’d hoped, but the energy and flow made up for it. At the end of the set, I’d come the conclusion that Deerhunter actually have six good songs, half of which are on the Fluorescent Grey EP, as opposed to the four I previously thought. Musically, I was pretty satisfied.

What I remember most from the show, however, has nothing to do with the music. Deerhunter played an encore, but Bradford Cox wouldn’t leave the stage. His band did, but for lack of a better way to put it, he decided that he wanted to have some kind of bizarre therapy session with his adoring fans (about a third or fourth of the crowd continued to stick around, even though the music was clearly over). I can’t give you a precise list of topics that he discussed, as I was very happy to retire down to the bar to have some drinks with a pal for this part of the evening and more or less ignore it over the PA. This continued for a long time, at least half an hour. The bar down below was empty, and my friend and I were listening to the bartenders talk shit about this self-help session. It was embarrassing. So embarrassing that I saw Nick Zinner of the Yeah Yeah Yeah’s run down stairs to the merch table to plead with Deerhunter’s manager to pull the plug. “He’s making a fool of himself.” I’d have to agree.

Labels: Concert Reviews, Deerhunter

Spoon was one of the biggest indie acts that had managed to elude me for some time; with smaller bands, you don’t necessarily kick yourself when shows repeatedly don’t work out. But this is Spoon, and they are really fucking good; they deserve better than that.

I almost missed this show as well; I was having a few drinks after work with coworkers, and it started pouring outside. The torrential downpour, along with me feeling a little on the happy side, nearly made me decide to just go back to Brooklyn to wait out the storm until it was time to catch Deerhunter later that evening. However, a friend of mine who was more dedicated than I went while it was still raining, and told me that although the openers were cancelled, the rain was letting up and the show was still on. So I headed down to the park where the show was going down, and saw a mob of people trying to dry everything off the stage. Apparently, they did a good job; Spoon went on a little late, but with enough time to get a set in. The crowd was impressively large, I can only imagine how many folks would’ve showed up with better weather.

As has been widely discussed by many much bigger fans than me, Spoon’s best quality is their stark minimalism. You only get the bare necessities of a song: rhythm, restrained arrangements and a catchy vocal melody with a swagger in the delivery that rightfully makes everyone else envious, if not completely jealous. This translates extremely well live, as what you’re used to hearing on the record, you also get from the concert. The set, from what I remember, was a little light on the new record Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, which was a little disappointing as it’s one of my favorite releases this year. They did, however, have a horn section with them for a few songs, which was excellent. I look forward to seeing them play a longer set in a room; Spoon are definitely worth checking out.

Labels: Concert Reviews, Spoon

Marnie Stern's debut record was a bright point of my winter, as I’d long thought she would find success if her music had the chance to find an audience. Signing to Kill Rock Stars took care of that, and what was left was finally seeing her recreate her unique sound with a band. For as much as seeing her thrash alone with her iPod was endearing, I’d always thought that her live show would only become transcendent when she could recreate all the parts live. I was naturally quite excited when I heard that she’d finally put a band together. Zach Hill from Hella (who also drummed on and produced Marnie’s record) and Robby Moncrieff of WHO'S YOUR FAVORITE SON GOD joined Marnie to tour the US, Australia and Japan.

The show was at the recently remodeled Knitting Factory. They opened up the main room substantially, which makes it feel much less claustrophobic than the old room did, and gives the sound quite a bit more space to travel in, which in a venue this size makes the sound a bit richer. All in all I like what they did and look forward to seeing more shows there.

Back to Marnie: when she plays solo with her iPod, you can hear all the fabulous layers of guitar wizardry quite clearly, along with plenty of backing vocal tracks to thicken up her delivery. But it’s missing the excitement of seeing it truly recreated live, and consequently lacks a little bite. With a band, the experience takes on added virtuosity (sometimes seeing is believing) and grit. The layered polish of the record is replaced by loud, powerful guitars, weaving between melodies and counterpoint at a level I’ve only otherwise seen done by very talented metal bands. The drummer sounded like a jazzman on speed. When everything was in sync (more often than not) the effect was impressive; the hype and anticipation, justified. And in a pleasant surprise not found on the record, some of the big releases rocked heavy. The vocals were a little thin, but for fans of Marnie’s music, it was a most rewarding show.

Labels: Concert Reviews, Marnie Stern