The Tragically Hip at the Fillmore / Irving Plaza
Did it happen, or was it a flashback from high school?
I think it really happened. The Tragically Hip totally rocked my face off. But instead of being underage and hoping my parents won't smell beer on my breath when they pick me up outside the arena after the show, I'm now over 30 and seeing them at a small, packed venue they're calling the Fillmore East. What the... How did I get here?! No wonder I'm confused.
Bottom line is that this very same lineup has been rocking pretty hard for the better part of two decades, and I was caught unprepared for the freshness with which songs from my youth played out before me. Songs I had forgotten I knew every word to suddenly seemed like... well, old friends who had
also turned 30 and found themselves at the Fillmore East. I don't think I'd be out of line to say that the jam during "At the Hundredth Meridian" was one of the best I've heard all year. Which made me think... Hmmm, was The Hip a JamBand all along and we Canadians didn't know any better to categorize it? Regardless, they do jam. And well, considering the wealth of experience they take into each show, a refreshing change from the typical JamBand experience of watching a quartet of seventeen-year olds recycle lesson notes from "Jamming for Dummies".
For those who haven't seen the band, Gord Downie is an absolute magician onstage, a delight to behold as he jerks around like a puppet, spins around on the bottom of his mic stand, calls chords out to the audience as he strums his acoustic... you get the idea. He does things onstage I've never even thought a person could do, and he does it all with total sincerity.
It also occurred to me that The Hip may just be one of the most important seeds from which grew the current buffet of "hard rockin' in an obscure fashion" bands that hail from the north country: Broken Social Scene, Arcade Fire, and the legion of bands that are splintered from each camp are all indebted to The Tragically Hip. When you listen to The Hip, you'll see why.
In other news...
Bjork is beautiful. So is the Apollo Theater. Together... you should be so lucky to someday take a bath in the result.
Fat Mama needs to get back together. ASAP. Too much talent in that lineup for this NOT to happen... and as we head into some Duo-less days ahead, it just may take 6 other guys onstage to hold down what Russo spews forth. And those horns... c'mon.
The best five dollars you never spent: the unbelievable hour-long set by
Bobby Previte and Marco Benevento during the final night of performance (ever) at the Lower Manhattan Cultural Center. It will now revert to its pre-9/11 use of being a bank, but it will hopefully remain filled with the incredible energy that artists like Previte imbued into its walls.
His show with Marco capped a week of duets with various madmen (and women), but you can catch these two back at it at High Sierra under the
Coalition of the Willing banner. Stay tuned for info on how you can get your hands on a video copy of this set...
Those sweet babies from Rose Hill Drive sure know how to rip a cover tune... while their songwriting as-of-yet is nothing to blog home about, their musicianship certainly is. The balls with which they'll pull off covers like Sabbath's
"Fairies Wear Boots" or Hendrix's gritty
"Power of Love" are astounding. And don't worry about their songwriting, as the boys are just in their early twenties, and seeing as they've already opened for The Who, I think they'll be around a while. That's a good thing. You can sample the rest of their blistering set at the Mercury Lounge on April 28, 2007
here.
Arcade Fire sound just like Arcade Fire, even when they're at Radio City. Which is to say, pretty damn good, in that energetic 4-4 time kind of way. And it always fun to watch Canadians scamper around a room like that: playing trumpet on the first Mezzanine, booking across the backs of seats in the orchestra, and generally behaving like RCMH is kind of like a playground... which it kind of is. So, thumbs up, my Canuck friends. C'est bon.
Got a hankering for some country that won't make you cringe? Eat yer heart out, Dolly Parton. We've got Serena Jean performing at the Brooklyn County Fair with some of her Honky Tonk Happy Hour mates
here...You can catch Serena performing with
Larune along with some other rather talented Honkytonkers on Monday, May 21st at the Living Room.
And finally, the best part of watching the Greyboy Allstars is pretending that Karl Denson isn't onstage. Then again, if he weren't, we wouldn't get those delicious smug glances shared behind his back by Robert Walter and Elgin Park up there. Their non-verbal communication is almost as tasty as the lick-a-licious grooves they're laying down. Some say the GBA sound just like they always did... I say that so long as RW wants to make that stinky-funk face, I'm down.
The invitation began while I was in my first beer line of the evening: a throbbing baseline reminiscent of something vaguely Talking Heads-esque was beckoning me beyond the brew stand at Randall's Island last Saturday, a venue that I had ostensibly ventured to for the first time in order to see Arcade Fire.
because of his quick wit and large stage presence, but because he has the ability to slip between vocal registers with the unforseen stealth of somebody like Jim James, who could be melting your face with primal screams and then suddenly hit an ethereal note that transports you. James Murphy is my new man to watch (and for those of you in NYC, he's DJing a set at The Hiro Ballroom next Tuesday, Oct 16th. It's free if you RSVP...). For more evidence of Murphy's sense of humor, and because bloggers deserve to be made fun of, click here.
Towards the end of set we returned to that deliciously quirky baseline that had enticed me at the outset, and I concluded that I would need to see more of this band as soon as possible. As I was trying to figure out how I would describe this newfound portal of pleasure, my friend and music expert SuperDee aptly concluded that it was Dance N' Roll. No wonder they pay her the big bucks ;) The set that followed from Arcade Fire was an enjoyable (if predictable) sing-along, but it could not nearly deliver the punch of its predecesor, leaving me hankering for some more Dance N' Roll as I headed out to find the loser cruiser to deliver me to back to Manhattan.
