Live music has a way of captivating an audience in a way that no recorded sound can. It also has a way of inviting some of the most uncomfortable atmospheres known to man. We pay endless amounts of money to stand with the most obtrusively annoying people, sharing in the splendor of the great American rock concert. Hence people’s obsession with “performance” enhancing drugs. I am convinced that no one drinks at concerts because it makes the show better; they drink so that they don’t have to pay attention to the buffoon next to them.
Indie music has taken the world by storm, providing people with an extra excuse to crack open PBR’s and grow unabashed facial hair. It has also created an open door policy on doing, and wearing whatever you want to a concert. Last Thursday, Neon Indian played one of their 3 sold out New York shows, to a…well, a circus of debauchery.
Musically, the openers A & R (I think it stood for “Awesome and” something, but they had such bad stage presence, that no one got their real name, so, A & R is what they get), and Tigercity, paved the awkward poppy way, leaving a large hole for Neon Indian to dig us out of. A & R is a Florida based group, with a “Killers-meets-Modest-Mouse” kind of sound, starring dancy beats and Mika-esque falsettos. They were followed by Tigercity, a 4 piece amalgam of the most confused band I have ever seen. Their music sounded fine, but I couldn’t get over the incongruities within the members of the band. The singer was a bearded bald man, and could have fronted a 90′s alternative rock group, the bassist donned a cutoff tee with long straight hair, and could have plucked for a death metal band. The guitarist with his frizzled hair belonged in a Zeppelin cover band, while the afro’d drummer could have fit in just about anywhere. Yet somehow, this foursome came together to deliver some funky riffs, but unfortunately they sounded more like a great High School Prom band, than a band I would actually enjoy listening to.
Here is “Fake Gold” from Tigercity’s new album.
Finally, after purgatorial hours of waiting, Neon Indian came to the rescue, entrancing the crowd in indie-pop synth beats and wild video animations. The unimpressed indie-kid crowd had no choice but to get their dancing shoes on. The crowd swayed and sang along, praising the headliner for at least lifting our sights from the goon infested crowd of junior high-like amateurs spattered throughout the venue. It was like it was people’s first time to a concert. Incessant chatter, dropped glasses, invading personal boundaries, just all around faux pas left and right.
All these things to the sober viewer were stumbling blocks for the overall enjoyment of the concert. My sights were distracted by the flat-billed wangster in front of me wearing a Rose Petal-floral designed Men’s Hoodie, making up his own raps to the instrumental breakdowns of the band. The crowd owes a sincere apology to the bands for acting like circus sideshows with no regard for humanity. The band’s owe us an apology for being generally boring.
I am ok with Indie-tape-pop becoming semi-popular, but I still find it relatively uninspiring. When you have a band that just stands and doesn’t really play instruments because you have everything prerecorded, I’m just not going to stand around and clap. I may sip my drink, and cynically judge the people around me, and I may even dignify you with a semi-review in the online world, but I certainly won’t buy your albums.
Here is some live footage, for your listening pleasure, like I said, imagine the live show, not very exciting. But, you could probably do some drugs and listen to this music and maybe think about abstract ideas for a while.
On a brighter note, Brooklyn Bowl is a phenomenal venue, with bowling lanes, 2 bars, a restaurant, and a large space for music viewing. Located in Williamsburg amongst former warehouses, this converted industrial site is a great place to see up-and-comers throughout the New York scene.
