An entire album straight through! What an intriguing idea! For those of you who read my Ben Folds review and think I’m mocking Folds or Jimmy Eat World, let me assure you: I am not. I think it’s a compelling model that I hope more musicians adopt. Folds’ problem was he gave fans no advance notice and chose an album they could not have heard in the first place – it had not been released! Jimmy Eat World, by contrast, announced well ahead of time that this would be a nostalgia show – they would be performing all of Clarity, a lesser known album from before they hit it big.
The coolest thing about the full album concept was that I could experience three different concerts in one day. First, in school, as I prepared my lessons, I could re-familiarize myself with all the songs, in their designated order. Second, on the car ride to DC, I could listen to a headphone dress rehearsal, an uninterrupted dry run for the live show. And then, finally, at the club, I could hear the music come to life.
Clarity is not the best Jimmy Eat World album (there’s a reason Bleed American is the most popular), but it is the most suited to a full performance. Its first four songs build slowly and are relatively quiet. This makes for a gradual transition. You are out of the headphones, no longer listening to the songs in your car, but you also are not at a raucous public concert. If you close your eyes, as I did midway through the second song, it feels like they are performing for just you. You’ve somehow arranged your own private show.
The other, less egomaniacal reason the opening songs worked so well is they formed a crescendo. Everything built up to “Crush.” Low-key sounds kept rumbling around for fifteen minutes, there was a final triangle twinkle at the end of “A Sunday,” and then it EXPLODED. The first ten seconds of “Crush” were exhilarating: “Faaate is not keep falling…fallllllllling, yeah…” More importantly, these seconds were earned. Everyone’s eyes were opened and everyone started to fist pump not because “Crush” had been a single, but because they could feel that “Crush” had arrived.
The only major disappointment of the show was that they played “Goodbye Sky Harbor.” I know, it would have been rather awkward to play a straight album show and then leave out the last track, but it still would have been wise to do so. With the exception of Eminem’s vile “Kim,” “Goodbye Sky Harbor” is my official least favorite song. It takes one of my favorite genres – the Epic Mood Track – and DESTROYS it by playing a bell for thirteen straight minutes! Like, all you hear is this bleeping bell – and the phrase “dododada” -- for thirteen straight minutes! It’s awful.
They include some swirling electronica for the last two minutes, but that’s no real consolation. It still assaults all other Epic Mood Tracks that went before it. Wilco’s “Spiders” and Death Cab’s “Transatlanticism” are not for everyone. They do require a lot of patience; you certainly could describe them as indulgent. At least, though, they try to do something. At least they include different sounds. At least they’re not “GOODBYE SKY HARBOR”!
Fortunately, even “Goodbye Sky Harbor” could not suck the life out of the show. They finished with two non-Clarity tracks: “Pain” (which is far more pleasurable than “Harbor”) and “Sweetness” (a song which never fails to make me smile). If they decide to include these in a Bleed American show a few years from now, I’ll be the first on line…
Grade: A-
Saturday, August 29, 2009
35 -- Kings of Leon -- Thursday, January 29, 2009 – Madison Square Garden -- NYC
I don’t really know what to make of Kings of Leon – or their NYC concert. I like that they’re edgy (more than I can say for The Killers) and accessible (more than I can say for TV on the Radio). I also like there is no awkward, undeveloped quality in their early albums – Youth and Young Manhood / Aha Shaka Heartbreak have just as many engaging songs as Because of the Times / Only by the Night.
The problem is ‘like’ is the word I continually find myself using when describing them. They’re likable, approachable…yet rarely embraceable. My favorite use for them is background music: they’re on whenever I’m reading, typing, or doing laundry. Amusing as the laundry image may be (what young band does not aspire to be the audio someone half hears over an industrial strength drier?!), it is probably a bit unfair. I have gone out of my way to listen to some of their songs (“Crawl,” “The Bucket,” “Use Somebody”) and there were two moments that genuinely moved me during their NYC show.
The first was listening to “Sex on Fire.” It had not been my favorite song beforehand, but seeing the reaction, seeing all of Madison Square Garden literally and figuratively glow at the “fiiiiiiire” part, was impressive. Now I pump up the volume every time I hear it on DC 101.
The second moment truly was exceptional. It was the first time I can think of that a performer actually said something about a specific audience in a specific city…and meant it. Frontman Caleb Followill explained that, for them, “This is it, man. Coming up all our lives, playing bars and small halls, and now, Madison Square Garden. This is it, man.” Sincerity – gets me every time.
Grade: B
The problem is ‘like’ is the word I continually find myself using when describing them. They’re likable, approachable…yet rarely embraceable. My favorite use for them is background music: they’re on whenever I’m reading, typing, or doing laundry. Amusing as the laundry image may be (what young band does not aspire to be the audio someone half hears over an industrial strength drier?!), it is probably a bit unfair. I have gone out of my way to listen to some of their songs (“Crawl,” “The Bucket,” “Use Somebody”) and there were two moments that genuinely moved me during their NYC show.
The first was listening to “Sex on Fire.” It had not been my favorite song beforehand, but seeing the reaction, seeing all of Madison Square Garden literally and figuratively glow at the “fiiiiiiire” part, was impressive. Now I pump up the volume every time I hear it on DC 101.
The second moment truly was exceptional. It was the first time I can think of that a performer actually said something about a specific audience in a specific city…and meant it. Frontman Caleb Followill explained that, for them, “This is it, man. Coming up all our lives, playing bars and small halls, and now, Madison Square Garden. This is it, man.” Sincerity – gets me every time.
Grade: B
34 -- The Killers – Wednesday, January 28, 2009 – The Patriot Center – Fairfax, VA
If I were being entirely objective about it, the Killers would get an “A.” The vocals were solid, the production values were excellent, and the capacity crowd loved every minute.
From my biased perspective, though, I have to go with “A-.” I could hide behind the fact that the palm tree backdrop was awkward or that frontman Brandon Flowers did not seem to have much of a personality. I’ll give the real reason, but admit it’s a bit embarrassing: the show was too mainstream. The audio felt slick, the visuals felt packaged, and the crowd seemed like they had come in the hopes the band could make “Mr. Brightside” sound as good as it did on the season finale of Laguna Beach. I’m aware this whole analysis reeks of indie snobbery, but after two mind-blowing shows the month before, this couldn’t measure up.
That being said, I am still a big Killers fan and thoroughly enjoyed the show. It was great to finally hear “Human,” “All These Things I’ve Done,” and “Somebody Told Me” live – and to spend the whole concert in the company of one Bradford Taylor Howard.
Grade: A-
From my biased perspective, though, I have to go with “A-.” I could hide behind the fact that the palm tree backdrop was awkward or that frontman Brandon Flowers did not seem to have much of a personality. I’ll give the real reason, but admit it’s a bit embarrassing: the show was too mainstream. The audio felt slick, the visuals felt packaged, and the crowd seemed like they had come in the hopes the band could make “Mr. Brightside” sound as good as it did on the season finale of Laguna Beach. I’m aware this whole analysis reeks of indie snobbery, but after two mind-blowing shows the month before, this couldn’t measure up.
That being said, I am still a big Killers fan and thoroughly enjoyed the show. It was great to finally hear “Human,” “All These Things I’ve Done,” and “Somebody Told Me” live – and to spend the whole concert in the company of one Bradford Taylor Howard.
Grade: A-
33 -- Oasis – Saturday, December 18, 2008 – The Patriot Center – Fairfax, VA
“A sane Smashing Pumpkins.”
That’s the comparison that entered my mind early on in the Oasis concert, which featured the surprising success of yet another band I was lukewarm about before the show. Like Smashing Pumpkins, Oasis relied on elaborate instrumentals and trippy color schemes to create a distinctive mood. They looked to stimulate the audience’s mind not their heart rates; they tried to elicit knowing head bobs not emphatic fist pumps. Also like SP, they did not pretend to be best friends with everyone in the crowd. They were occasionally vocal, and always respectful, but did not condescend.
The main difference between the two was that Oasis was mentally stable. They did not send shivers down my spine or conjure images of cannibalism in my brain. They were successful because they knew exactly what they were – psychedelic, not psychotic.
Grade: A
Endnotes: (1) Famous or not, “Champagne Supernova” was the top song. The lighting, melody, atmosphere – superb. (2) I was disappointed that I missed Ryan Adams, the opening band. Check out “You Will Always Be the Same” and “Desire” to find out why.
That’s the comparison that entered my mind early on in the Oasis concert, which featured the surprising success of yet another band I was lukewarm about before the show. Like Smashing Pumpkins, Oasis relied on elaborate instrumentals and trippy color schemes to create a distinctive mood. They looked to stimulate the audience’s mind not their heart rates; they tried to elicit knowing head bobs not emphatic fist pumps. Also like SP, they did not pretend to be best friends with everyone in the crowd. They were occasionally vocal, and always respectful, but did not condescend.
The main difference between the two was that Oasis was mentally stable. They did not send shivers down my spine or conjure images of cannibalism in my brain. They were successful because they knew exactly what they were – psychedelic, not psychotic.
Grade: A
Endnotes: (1) Famous or not, “Champagne Supernova” was the top song. The lighting, melody, atmosphere – superb. (2) I was disappointed that I missed Ryan Adams, the opening band. Check out “You Will Always Be the Same” and “Desire” to find out why.
32 -- AC/DC – Saturday, November 15, 2008 – Verizon Center – Washington, DC
Smashing Pumpkins and AC/DC could both be considered hard rock. The similarities basically end there. Smashing Pumpkins is all about experimentation, variety, and high degree of difficulty. AC/DC is all about consistency, dependability, and the lowest common denominator. Smashing Pumpkins’ darkness is genuine; its frontman is an actual rebel. AC/DC’s rebelliousness feels more like a brand – i.e. we’re the kings of misogyny! Come join in our stupidity!
Even if you hate this mindset, though, and the crowd it attracts, you probably would have loved the show. If you had been at the Verizon Center that Saturday in November, you too would have grinned. You would not have been able to resist the ninety minutes of loud, crude, explosive fun. Guitarist Brian Johnson jumped onto a dangling rope and swung on a giant steel bell during “Hell’s Bells,” guitarist Angus Young spun around on the floor as he powered through a seven-minute solo during “Let There Be Rock,” and all band members courageously played on as literal fireballs and cannonballs went off throughout the show! So, you know, a tender acapella performance.
In the end, I don’t see myself attending monster truck rallies any time soon, but it’s good to know I can occasionally enjoy the musical equivalent.
Grade: A-
Even if you hate this mindset, though, and the crowd it attracts, you probably would have loved the show. If you had been at the Verizon Center that Saturday in November, you too would have grinned. You would not have been able to resist the ninety minutes of loud, crude, explosive fun. Guitarist Brian Johnson jumped onto a dangling rope and swung on a giant steel bell during “Hell’s Bells,” guitarist Angus Young spun around on the floor as he powered through a seven-minute solo during “Let There Be Rock,” and all band members courageously played on as literal fireballs and cannonballs went off throughout the show! So, you know, a tender acapella performance.
In the end, I don’t see myself attending monster truck rallies any time soon, but it’s good to know I can occasionally enjoy the musical equivalent.
Grade: A-
Friday, August 7, 2009
31 -- Smashing Pumpkins -- Tuesday, November 11, 2008 – DAR Constitution Hall – DC
Rise Against broke all the rules. Smashing Pumpkins re-broke them. The shock with Rise Against had been that I could love a concert even if I did not have a command of all the songs. It had also been groundbreaking because I did not even like a lot of the songs I knew. With Smashing Pumpkins, though, I had a good command of virtually all of the songs, and did not like virtually any of them!
And yet, live, it was magical. Black magic, to be sure, a sinister potion brewed deep inside Billy Corgan’s special circle of Hell…but still magic.
And yet, live, it was magical. Black magic, to be sure, a sinister potion brewed deep inside Billy Corgan’s special circle of Hell…but still magic.
The first thing I noticed when I got to my seat was the blinding light. My seat was to the side of the stage to begin with, never technically a good place to be, and now I had neon bulbs blasting directly into my eye!
And yet, strangely, that was a positive sign. As I tilted my head to avoid a direct blast, I noticed that the colors bent. If I shifted slightly to the left, red beams collided with blue beams. If I shifted slightly to the right, blue collided with green. As I continue to shift and tilt, I noticed more and more intricate combinations. After a few minutes, the thought hit me: I was about to watch a concert through a kaleidoscope!
Once I grew accustomed to the colors schemes, I noticed that the music was just as trippy. It’d veer from jagged guitar to rumbling piano to manic drums and back – often within the same song. The only constant was Corgan’s menacing voice and demonic presence. He’d whisper, shriek, groan, sing in tune – anything to put the audience on edge.
And yet, strangely, that was a positive sign. As I tilted my head to avoid a direct blast, I noticed that the colors bent. If I shifted slightly to the left, red beams collided with blue beams. If I shifted slightly to the right, blue collided with green. As I continue to shift and tilt, I noticed more and more intricate combinations. After a few minutes, the thought hit me: I was about to watch a concert through a kaleidoscope!
Once I grew accustomed to the colors schemes, I noticed that the music was just as trippy. It’d veer from jagged guitar to rumbling piano to manic drums and back – often within the same song. The only constant was Corgan’s menacing voice and demonic presence. He’d whisper, shriek, groan, sing in tune – anything to put the audience on edge.
As the show wore on, it seemed as if he was consciously going a step further – trying to alienate certain segments of the crowd. It brought me back to college, studying this guy Antonin Artaud, architect of Theater of Cruelty, who felt that the world had become so distressed and divided, the only way to fairly approach art was to alienate your own audience. I doubt this is exactly what Corgan was going for; Artaud seems like a more pretentious maniac. I do think he was trying to cast off any casual fans, however – i.e. the type that sat one row behind me griping, “What is this? When is he going to play a hit?”
The thing that was bizarre about the whole situation was that I was neither casual nor devoted. I had listened to the band’s entire discography and still hated them! At least with Rise Against, I’d liked an entire album beforehand (Audience of One). With Smashing Pumpkins, it was a limited to one song (“Everlasting Gaze”)! Equally strange was the fact that I’d lambasted Ben Folds a month earlier at the same venue for the reason cited by the guy behind me: “What is he doing? When is he going to play anything known?”
And yet, there I was, having a drug-free out-of-body experience. The performance was just so bold, so different, I didn’t see how anyone with half an imagination could refuse. Blackness would envelop the entire auditorium; then a dozen neon bursts would shine through. Vocally, he’d thrash through five bone-chilling verses and end on a falsetto. The scary part was, the falsetto was more frightening. The three-minute baseline, the five-minute guitar riff, the eleven-minute tribute to Pink Floyd…..it was indulgent, outrageous…and irresistible.
Corgan did not say a word to the audience before, during, or after the encore. He simply came back on, performed three especially Satanic / euphoric songs, and walked off. Some probably considered his behavior profoundly arrogant – especially when he walked off to massive guitar feedback – which seemed designed to drown out audience applause. After months of cookie-cutter concerts, though, I found it inspiring. You get so used to fake band-crowd connections, to forgone-conclusion final songs, that you want someone to go against the grain. You want to leave a concert and revel in the infinite strangeness of it all…
The thing that was bizarre about the whole situation was that I was neither casual nor devoted. I had listened to the band’s entire discography and still hated them! At least with Rise Against, I’d liked an entire album beforehand (Audience of One). With Smashing Pumpkins, it was a limited to one song (“Everlasting Gaze”)! Equally strange was the fact that I’d lambasted Ben Folds a month earlier at the same venue for the reason cited by the guy behind me: “What is he doing? When is he going to play anything known?”
And yet, there I was, having a drug-free out-of-body experience. The performance was just so bold, so different, I didn’t see how anyone with half an imagination could refuse. Blackness would envelop the entire auditorium; then a dozen neon bursts would shine through. Vocally, he’d thrash through five bone-chilling verses and end on a falsetto. The scary part was, the falsetto was more frightening. The three-minute baseline, the five-minute guitar riff, the eleven-minute tribute to Pink Floyd…..it was indulgent, outrageous…and irresistible.
Corgan did not say a word to the audience before, during, or after the encore. He simply came back on, performed three especially Satanic / euphoric songs, and walked off. Some probably considered his behavior profoundly arrogant – especially when he walked off to massive guitar feedback – which seemed designed to drown out audience applause. After months of cookie-cutter concerts, though, I found it inspiring. You get so used to fake band-crowd connections, to forgone-conclusion final songs, that you want someone to go against the grain. You want to leave a concert and revel in the infinite strangeness of it all…
Grade: A+
30 -- The Who -- Monday, November 3, 2008 -- Verizon Center – Washington, DC
Meh. My initial AIM Profile grade was a “B,” so I’ll stick with that, but I don’t remember being particularly impressed. Three main things disappointed me: (1) you could often tell their age, (2) I did not come to the concert strongly connecting with a lot of the songs, and (3) they did not play either of the songs I connected to most.
62-year-old frontman Pete Townshend certainly did not embarrass himself, and could show whippersnappers like Jack Johnson and The New Rockers a few things about performing live. That being said, it did seem like Townshend was going through the motions at times. Because he had been a world renowned rock star for forty years, his version of going through the motions was still engaging…but it didn’t have a lot of urgency. Springsteen takes songs most people have heard twenty times before and makes them new. Townshend simply replayed those songs. The renditions were always competent – but rarely dynamic.
Dropping in obscure songs on a Greatest Hits tour is generally a good idea. It keeps band members fresh and pays respect to true fans. The only problem in this case was that I was not a true fan. I’d gone to the show because they were a seminal group and I loved Tommy, but I certainly did not have a command of all their albums. I prepped as much as I could the week beforehand, but it’s hard to make up for forty years in that amount of time. ;)
Considering they had forty years of songs to choose from, it was understandable they could not pick everyone’s favorites. But why couldn’t they play “Slip Kid”?! And “Christmas”?! These songs had the best beats of any I heard in Europe. “Slip Kid”’s flicked back and forth according to the zigs and zags in the young rascal’s life. “Christmas”’s relied on an extreme turn two minutes into song, shifting from a sappy family celebration…to a fearful search for young Tommy, referenced in the songs before. Couldn’t they have played at least one of them? Oh, well, at least I got “Pinball Wizard” and “Baba O’Reilly” – and first-rate versions at that.
Grade: B
62-year-old frontman Pete Townshend certainly did not embarrass himself, and could show whippersnappers like Jack Johnson and The New Rockers a few things about performing live. That being said, it did seem like Townshend was going through the motions at times. Because he had been a world renowned rock star for forty years, his version of going through the motions was still engaging…but it didn’t have a lot of urgency. Springsteen takes songs most people have heard twenty times before and makes them new. Townshend simply replayed those songs. The renditions were always competent – but rarely dynamic.
Dropping in obscure songs on a Greatest Hits tour is generally a good idea. It keeps band members fresh and pays respect to true fans. The only problem in this case was that I was not a true fan. I’d gone to the show because they were a seminal group and I loved Tommy, but I certainly did not have a command of all their albums. I prepped as much as I could the week beforehand, but it’s hard to make up for forty years in that amount of time. ;)
Considering they had forty years of songs to choose from, it was understandable they could not pick everyone’s favorites. But why couldn’t they play “Slip Kid”?! And “Christmas”?! These songs had the best beats of any I heard in Europe. “Slip Kid”’s flicked back and forth according to the zigs and zags in the young rascal’s life. “Christmas”’s relied on an extreme turn two minutes into song, shifting from a sappy family celebration…to a fearful search for young Tommy, referenced in the songs before. Couldn’t they have played at least one of them? Oh, well, at least I got “Pinball Wizard” and “Baba O’Reilly” – and first-rate versions at that.
Grade: B
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