i’m restraining myself from starting this blog post off with something along the lines of “first off, what a trip.” it wasn’t a trip in the slightest, really; the only reason why that phrase popped in my head is because i may be a bit intoxicated, and if anything/anyone was having a “trip” or something pertaining to one, it’s probably just me. that being said…
this was a strictly alright show. i didn’t leave the venue clutching my chest and spurning out devotionals to the bands that played, but i also didn’t clutch it because the music was organ-stoppingly bad or anything like that. in fact, i didn’t pay too close attention to what was going on onstage because the audience – and the venue itself – was so much more intriguing.
or maybe puzzling would be a better word. the people rounding out the room ran the gambit of ultra-bro all the way down to effete appropriately cuff-rolled hipster twig. there seemed to be no consistency or overwhelming majority when it came to age – more than a few wide-eyed faces looked like they must have come paired with fake IDs, and there was also a good showing of people well over the suggested-as-per-social-norm age for rock show attendance. more than one person looked like he was there just for the availability of booze and a television screen nearby. it was strangely heterogenous.
as for the music hall itself, it definitely had somewhat of a mcvenue feel. it might have been the “brighton music hall” t-shirt clad staff members, the japanese anime girl-looking bartenders, or the obligatory smattering of alcohol-related wall hangings – i’m not really sure. the sound was decent, but a bit too echoey; one has to wonder about why anyone ever decided to put a concert venue into what seems like an old industrial warehouse, high corrugated steel-framed ceilings and all. the five bars and the pool lounge only added to the mystique (especially after having recently read the interview with the owner that appeared in the phoenix, during which he made a strong declaration that the place was “only going to be about the music“).
other than that – let’s outline the major points:
1) got there late and 100% missed the dirty dishes…sad, because theirs was the only synth of the night.
2) girlfriends played a decent set. kinda wish their bassist would stop trying so hard to “gel” with the audience. i also think they should move towards their similarities to the b-52s rather than away from them, so break out the surfy reverb and turn up them quirky harmonized male/female vocals, y’all.
3) taxpayer = the killers + tool. my roommate came away referring to them as “bro-splosion.” this is accurate. technically, their ability was top-notch and hard to assail, but there wasn’t a lot of feeling or (what i perceive as) creativity behind it. still, by virtue of their musicianship and the occasional worthwhile hook, they were most likely the night’s best act, whether or not their drummer looked like he’d just stepped off touring with avenged sevenfold.
4) mean creek, for all that it was “their night” and their EP coming out (and apparently it was their singer’s birthday, too), were very underwhelming. there wasn’t a lot of inspiration in what they played, nor emotion in how they played it; it rarely seemed as though they were having fun as opposed to clocking in for the requisite eight to ten songs, then calling it a night. it was a bit of a disappointment, really. i will give it to them that it’s hard to listen to them and isolate their immediate influences right off the bat and that brings their stuff a gentle layer of obfuscation, but that’s about as far as i’m gonna go. also, no more screech-singing from the guitarist, please.
5) mediocre or not, the night was made by a few things: number one, the indie rock boston meetup actually met up, so i spent the evening chatting with some super-cool dudes. number two, i was on a puffy drunk cloud for most of the night, due to drinks bought for me in re: the fact that it’s my 23rd birthday. number three, it’s my 23rd birthday.
sooo, yeah. all in all, it was a good way to celebrate and to savor a saturday night. now that it’s nearly three o’clock in the morning, i believe it is time for the hay to be hit. keep on keepin’ it real.