Lightning Bolt, Kilby Court, April 7th, 2011

First Start: Not planned, but convenient I’m posting this right after one with Scott Teplin’s hyper-detailed drawings of mangled vehicle viscera. Not that Brian Chippendale’s own drawings don’t represent the band well, but Teplin’s drawings, featured below, are very nearly the carnage, in visual form, that Lightning Bolt produces.

Start Over: People watching is best at Lightning Bolt concerts. First, it’s action–because you’re also watching out for yourself, in a sea of arms and sweat, not to be pushed into Chippendale’s blur-flail drumming and be jarred to bits. Second–and perhaps this is why I think this–the first time Erin and I saw Lightning Bolt, there was this girl across the way, right behind Brian Gibson, who we later dubbed “orgasm girl,” because of her clenched-eyed facial expressions in reaction to the noise.

New Start; Start 3: The quintessential live band. It’s no grand statement to say so. Everyone knows it’s truth. I remember reading about their live setup in CMJ magazine as a teenager, ordering their records because of it, waiting for the day that I would actually be a witness to it…

Doing a New Start, Again: Title: Lightning Bolt; a second date. First date was a few years ago with Erin. Me + Lightning Bolt was the reason Erin married me. So a second date, despite my wedded status, was always in the cards. What I’ve learned on date number 2: Lightning Bolt…

Beach House concert review

Beach House at the Star Bar, January 24th, 2010

I’ve pondered this review for about a week. All that pondering muddled my memory of the concert. I know I liked the show. I blissfully, eyes-closed enjoyed it. But I haven’t been able to figure out how to discuss concerts without puling about the people who go to concerts. I promise this won’t be a predictable rehash of a diatribe against hipsters and their silly haircuts. I’m going to talk about the music. But as we all know, a concert is only as good as the sum of its many parts.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say concertgoers consider the audience to be the least enjoyable part about concerts. Most conversations about shows entail an approving or disgruntled description of the crowd, as well as a comment about the music. In this case I’m torn. I’ve had a very passionate obsession with Beach House ever since I saw them at Kilby Court two years ago. I want to share this love with others. And as I mixed and mingled with the crowd at the Star Bar I came to realize that everybody I talked to were about to be struck by Cupid’s arrow. Almost all the members of the audience had only very recently heard of Beach House.

All those virgin ears should have been pleasantly thrilled. The giant wall of sonic delight that burrowed into the crowd must have been the perfect first time encounter with the band. Beach House was Alex Scally on guitar and vocals, Victoria Legrand on keys and gorgeous vocals, and either Daniel J Franz or Graham Hill on percussion (according to their MySpace there are two percussionists but only one played drums on stage). Three people filled that little venue to the brim with sweet, sweet noise.

The band played almost exclusively from their recently released third album Teen Dream. The delicate tintinnabulation of the guitars and the first plaintive moans of “Zebra” immediately hushed the crowd. As the chorus opened up we understood just how loud the band can, and would, get. The new album does not accentuate the band’s sonic muscle nearly enough. But Beach House were also tender lovers during numbers like “Better Times” and the closer “Take Care.” Every song, though, swallowed the crowd up, smothered it in a way Teen Dream somehow fails to.

As far as the band’s earlier output, the virgin Beach Housers didn’t get enough. “Master of None” was the lone representative from the self-titled album and for the life of me I can only remember them playing “Gila” from Devotion. I can’t remember which, but I’m positive they played another from Devotion. These songs were perfect. They were just as bittersweet as the rest of the set. But I wanted all the newcomers to understand why I’ve been in love with this band for so long. I absolutely cannot complain about the set list because I loved every song and every minute, but I wanted more.

I was happy to find that the band I love didn’t attempt to recreate the magic of Devotion or their self-titled on their new album Teen Dream. I guess I’m lamenting the fact that my love at first sight experience could never be duplicated. But I felt as though my long time love had decided to gloss over the first time we met. Beach House absolutely did not disappoint and I really shouldn’t complain about the truly solid set list. The concert dazzled me. But the cynical side of me did resent those in the crowd that made me feel as though I was only there to participate in a hip scene. A lot of those people left the Star Bar in love, but a lot of them didn’t give Beach House the tenderness and attention they deserve. I see big things for Beach House, but I hope they keep a handle on the past and I hope the newcomers don’t overlook the band’s past albums.

— Egan

No Kids + Mount Eerie Show 10/19/2009

I've been burnt out on shows lately. Unless the conditions are perfect I usually end up annoyed, tired, bored, or pissed off at something/someone. I've seen way too many live bands to be impressed by much. So it goes without saying that I have recently been skipping out on shows that a year or two ago I would not have missed for the world. I knew that No Kids could get me out of my funk though. I had complete faith and walking into Kilby and seeing it packed with high school hipster youth decked head to toe in anything Urban Outfitters skeptically eyeing me in my old cargo maternity pants and Cosby sweater being followed by Thistle carrying our little 7 month old son didn't even set me back. I went there to be affected, and I was. No Kids played mostly new songs that after hearing I prematurely evaluated to Thistle "best album of 2010." The grooves were thick and bassy as expected, but an unexpected twist was that No Kids drummer was M.I.A. and Phil Elverum was Philling in (get it?) Phil played primarily the same beats, but added his own flourishes on the few songs that they played off of Come into My House. I love that album and wanted to hear it performed as recorded, but when all was said and sung, Phil's addition was very enjoyable, not better or worse, but different and good. The female vocals were replaced by harmonizing piano and No Kids grooved me right into remembering why I love to see bands live, and it felt gooooood.

Now, Mt. Eerie on the other hand, I was not looking forward to. Don't get me wrong I like Mt. Eerie, but I have seen them 4 times already and figured I would just leave after the first song. But then I saw their setup and thought maybe they would keep my attention. They more than kept my attention. The thing about Phil Elverum is that you never know what you are going to get. I have seen him play a show where he didn't even bring his own guitar and had to borrow someones and then sang songs to a cross legged audience out of a sketchbook that he had just barely written and although the songs were pleasant, they were almost always unfinished, botched and interrupted with giggling. This time around Phil's crew obliterated the tiny Kilby Court with an absolute wave of sound on the first note coming from No Kids on the keys, Phil on guitar and two drummers with intense setups. I'm talking gongs, mallets, wire brushes and the works. Let me just tell you, I am a sucker for two drummers playing synchronized beats and I was smitten from the first crash. Phil is at his absolute best when playing his metal sets. As I mentioned before, our 7 month old child was in attendance and even though he was adorned in his noise cancellation headphones we still felt it was WAY too loud for him. Thistle was outside with him, but it was raining and I wasn't able to enjoy Mt. Eerie's entire set. From what I saw (5 songs) they were playing Wind's Poem in it's entirety, start to finish. It was absolutely mind blowing.

We all know that a good Kilby show is the best kind of show. An attentive crowd in a tiny shack getting attacked by noise emanating from right in front of their faces- I love it. I really needed that show and it delivered more than expected. I feel refreshed, inspired, and ready to take on more live sets now. Bring it on.

-Sassigrass