My buddy Scott (who took the picture above) has been raving to me about Team Robespierre for quite some time; much longer, in fact, than their current moment of buzz and good press. Scott has spent much time in the past trying to convert me to his favorite band, playing their records whenever given the chance, and doing his best to spread the gospel of their live show to me and the other drunks we spend our time with. For no particularly good reason, it took me a while to go check out one of Team Robespierre’s shows with him. He had explained very clearly that to understand and dig the Team, one needed to experience their live show, as that is their preferred and best means of being. I think that he’s absolutely right.

The combination of a free show and free beer were enough to convince me to head up to Greenpoint for the show; I forget who all exactly was on the bill, but Robespierre played first. And more or less immediately, all the things Scott had been telling me for so long came true: the kids flipped their shit. Hard. Team Robespierre (at the time, perhaps that’s changed now) did not have a big enough fan base to fill up Studio B, and it’s quite likely that most folks where there for either the free booze or the headliner, but they did have more than enough fans to take over almost the entire dance floor, and to put it to good use. It reminded me of what a Matt and Kim show is like, except less winky fun and more spazm. The band has serious energy, more so, in fact, than they know what to do with. Their fans similarly share this energy, and the stage and crowd seemed to be a mess of flying and convulsing bodies, without the self-consciousness of people trying to look good in any way whatsoever.

Unfortunately for me (and the other uninitiated), like so many other promising shows at Studio B, the sound basically ruined it. I couldn’t tell you why it was so difficult to hear all the given instruments at a given time (I feel like in a single song, I could hear about two instruments between their guitars, keyboards, bass, drums and vocals). Some (perhaps a majority) of the blame must go the soundman, who couldn’t figure out what the band ought to sound like, and some likely falls on the band for not getting some of these kinks worked out during the soundcheck. What I kind of heard (but not enough to properly understand, let alone judge), was hyper, spastic, synth driven punk with vocals that match the music. The songs were fast, brief, and weird. If that sounds like the kind of thing you’d be into, particularly if your someone who can’t really dance but loves to spazz out anyway, then believe the hype, and check out the band.

Labels: Concert Reviews, Team Robespierre