It's the power of an invitation. The idling anticipation for a big storm that turned South suddenly like I decided to take it up and go out, hoping to maybe face a rain-splattered windshield on the way home. Hoping to need that sweater I packed, to shoot the moon, to find it's Fall and I'm not just overdressing anymore.
It's knowing the feeling of going to a show -- knowing it's always worthwhile, just for the music, even when I'm alone. I'm getting a feel and taste for the bar/venue with a small cover charge. No less professional are the tiny college venues and house shows I've grown to love, but with a better staging. You're still having a beer and mixing with the opening act while the headliners get going, and you're not going to lose your friends, or get a talking-to if you break a glass. (Actually, you'll just hover vaguely near the scene, guiltily stuck, watching an exasperated bartender like he's your mom, it's your kitchen and it's your friends making too much of a mess.) But whatever. I've had an intro to this scale of venue in my post-college 20's, and it fits me. No, I don't have that funny, Pavlovian welling anticipation to the same degree brought by the beautiful staging and excitement of the National. Nevertheless, this new-old feeling keeps me coming back, and I can count on a good show from Don Fredrick. They're a big group -- three guitars, keys and a kit, bass and a lead singer, so I'd actually love to see them do a house show. And their one-hour set last night flowed through about three genres, fit deftly into the timeslot, and set the stage for Sugar Candy Mountain. Their opening sequence was heavy rock. Opener, "I'll Buy the Tickets, You Get the Drinks," or however that one goes, is a present-tense storytelling number that offers fragmented information in a spoken voice. Engrossing suspense develops along the lines of edgy, grinding guitars, on an eventual, decisive rhythm with heavy downbeats. The narration builds on itself by brief additions to the beginning of the original phrase, and repetition. Slow realization of the basic facts of a situation are delivered with tacit bravado. The song builds to a simple acknowledgement of an interaction. Lyrics don't cut deep or resolve themselves, but lose themselves in heavy reverb and percussion. From one who needs music in their daily lives, this is a satisfying and enjoyable number that made for a great opener. Time to laugh at ourselves, and rock! then they ask, at their full volume, "Are you ready for me?" Then, Don Fredrick turned on a dime and played funk. To me, they are bright, talented, and entertain with ease. Funk transitioned to my favorite tune, "Country Breakfast Shorty," with a pick-up in tempo and smooth delivery. They have this song nailed down! It's a unique number, with a smiliar spoken delivery, Western tones, and the rapid rhythm of a techno trance. The song takes you on a frontier journey. The speaker wakes up somewhere on the fringe, where a knowing woman is ready with a loaded meal. And yet, while the needling melody keeps going, the speaker's thoughts linger somewhere in a state of recollection. To me, it's like waking up with a hangover, and not feeling prepared for the day as it unfolds. The full belly balances everything out, and the speaker carries it with the assurance he has taken from a stranger. The band's new album is heavier than their first recordings, and features some jazz saxophone. Keeping a lookout for their fun shows!
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BACK HOME AND FULL OF POTENTIAL Car Seat Headrest frontman, Will Toledo, experienced a well-attended homecoming Monday, Dec, 12, at The National in Richmond. The indie rock group, amidst their “Teens of Denial” album tour, will yet make their way up to New York, tap into Canada, hit Colorado and go as far South as Texas (way down, way down if you attended last night,) before returning to their home-base in Seattle toward the end of November. Toledo is a Leesburg, Va. native and a 2014 graduate of The College of William & Mary, Williamsburg, Va. Toledo was taken aback by the homecoming cheer, but said he was glad to have it. “There is no way there are that many people from Williamsburg here,” he said, a few songs into the energetic, mosh-pit show. There weren't. We were just noisy. During an early number I thought I could hear Toledo’s voice echo off the upper balcony, and reverberate in the white plaster dome high above the dance floor. I turned and saw audience members singing along to “Fill in the Blank,” a new release. Now, I'm still trying to get a grip on what happened since two springs ago, when we all were graduated. There's no way Car Seat Headrest was friends with all of those people in the audience...right? I guess I didn't know him too personally, either -- just thought CSHR shows were fun, and that "The Beach/ Life in Death," was good enough to take up a quarter of my radio slot almost every week. I spoke to an audience member, Maureen, a resident of Midlothian, who works for a Richmond non-profit, and was in attendance with her schoolteacher husband. She came to the show because Car Seat Headrest is her favorite band right now. Maureen listens to the radio, and she liked the songs she heard on independent music radio and podcasts. She currently blasts Car Seat Headrest while driving two teenagers to the bus stop. And, she mentioned while laughing, she cottoned them on and left them queasy thinking about what she may be up to that night. Kids, I didn't spot your mom dancing, but if she was like the other members of the crowded house, the show rocked right up to the “one more song.” Maureen said her teens didn't want to come with her. I remember coming around to my parents’ music, so that's what I told her. They’ll come around, I said. Now I am wondering whether through guidance of supportive parents, Car Seat Headrest's rockin' tunes will find their way to the hearts of a younger generation over the airwaves. To me, Maureen's support is a good indicator of this band's rising status. (This coming from another mom.) The band performed several tracks from their recent album. “Drunk Drivers/Killer Whales” and “Unforgiving Girl,” brought cheers. Drummer, Andrew Katz, thanked the Richmond audience for always “going hard.” The band gave the spirit back in a hard-driving jam after “Drunk Drivers.” They had to leave the stage and regroup after guitarist, Ethan Ives, snapped an E string. Toledo held down the fort, covering a Frank Ocean song. The encore, a two-fer, “Bodies” and “Stop Smoking,” came from a Williamsburg era album, Twin Fantasy, which has been reproduced by Toledo's new label. “Bodies” rocked the house like it did in Williamsburg, with lots of jumping around, and familiar faces (Dan and Alric) gathered in the middle of the moil. Toledo called the show here a “special occasion” for debuting crowd-pleasing “Bodies” on the current tour. The band adopts an alternative manner with the crowd. Their sing-along following for the new songs belies, to me, a pleasantly-surprised fan from the later-college days, the possession of the same skill to connect with people's spirits through songwriting. On the one hand, Toledo rarely breaks his poker face. On the other hand, he uses his voice clearly and touches so many people. Hearing talk of him going from college on to a producing studio, knowing he's formed a band with other studio musicians -- this is my closest brush with peers on a well-established record label, so it's fun to watch them conduct themselves on stage. The same dedication, adaptability, and good momentum should carry them through this tour. I'd certainly be interested to see their reception farther from home. Maureen said she appreciates the raw energy of young performers, and likes listening to what they have to say. This band played hard, covered the ground of their new album, played a few for their local friends, and conveyed a couple of take home messages, including my eternal favorite: “But as long as we move our bodies around a lot....(garble something something....) when we DANCE! When we DANCE!” ~~~~~~~~~~~ Take your hands off your neck and hold On to the ghost of my body You know that good lives make bad stories You can text me When punching mattresses gets old Don't think it'll always be this way Not comforted by anything I say We were wrecks before we crashed into each other... -Sober To Death, Car Seat Headrest (azlyrics.com) ~~~~~~~~~~~ Michelle's and my first concert together where we intended to blog. THANKS for helping me get the camera working without flash. Yes, we had a press-pass. No, only for the opening act, Gold Connections. Yes, carrying a camera bag cramped my style, but Yes, worth it! Why only posting now? ....... |
AuthorWe are Kieran and Michelle, two 32-year-old William & Mary grads living in Virginia. Archives
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