I've seen and heard a large number of bands so far this year, and I'll probably tally up some sort of list in late December of "Best Shows," "Most Surprising," "Most Disappointing," and so on and so forth. But we're not there yet, so at this point I'll just say that up to last night, I've only seen two bands twice this year, and they were both openers whom I saw twice only accidentally. I saw The Strange Boys open up for Spoon last March, and then again last month they opened for Those Darlin's. Similarly, I saw Suckers open for Menomena last week in a concert that's a sure candidate for a "Best Show" nomination, and I also saw them open for Local Natives back in May.
Up until last night, though, I hadn't actually bought tickets or ventured out with the intended purpose of seeing the same headliner twice. But even though last May's Suckers/Local Natives show was such a miserable experience due to long waiting times at the over-crowded venue, both bands had played such great sets that last night I ventured out to see Local Natives headline for a second time.
But here's the irony: they were playing at the same over-crowded venue as last May. The Masquerade is probably my least favorite place to see bands in Atlanta, not the least because it's an all-ages venue that tends to attract large swarms of teenagers (which only reminds me of how old I've gotten) but also because it's a large, multi-story venue that often insists on holding two or even three concerts simultaneously. This means that there's two or three times the crowd, and that sounds from one floor often bleed down to the other. When I saw Suckers and Local Natives there last month, the club herded the large audience into a small, ground-level, stage aptly named "Hell," and then had the crowd wait for over an hour as a heavy metal band upstairs finished their set. The standing-room-only crowd had no choice but to stare at an empty stage for an hour while pressed shoulder to shoulder and muffled metal sounds bled down through the ceiling. I considered this to be rude and exploitative of the club management. The only saving grace that led me to go back last evening is that Local Natives were going to be playing in the larger, upstairs room, aptly named "Heaven."
At one point during last night's set, guitarist Taylor Rice asked the crowd how many people saw them play downstairs the last time they were in Atlanta. A lot of hands went up, mine included, and Rice noted that after the tour was over, the band had all agreed that the downstairs crwod was the craziest audience of the tour. Was that any wonder, I thought, after what we had been through prior to their set? When the music had finally started, the cathartic release had the audience climbing the walls.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Masquerade is in a large facility, a 19th Century building that once was the old DuPre Excelsior Mill that manufactured a wood wool packaging product known as "excelsior." Prior to becoming the Masquerade in 1989, it operated as a pizzeria under the name Excelsior Mill and left much of the old factory works in place. They had even imported a large Wurlitzer pipe organ for occasional shows. There was a lot of wasted space, but that was part of the charm of the place. I used to go there frequently, and someday I should post a blog about the crazy things I've seen and done at the Excelsior Mill, but when Masquerade took over, they maximized the old building's potential by setting it up as a multi-stage "music park" for both indoor and outdoor concerts.
Last night, there was an even larger crowd than before to see Local Natives (their reputation having apparently grown even since last May) and Heaven was just as packed as Hell had been during their last show. The crowd was also just as young, full of high schoolers and teenagers making me feel even older and more out of place than usual (not that alienation's always a bad thing, though). I got there at about 8:30 pm and managed to squeeze into the crowd fairly close to stage right and then, reminiscent of last May, waited for a half hour until the opening band, SoCal's The Union Line, took the stage at 9:00 pm sharp. Unlike last time, though, this wait was forgivable as it was only for the actual showtime to begin, not due to the promoters' greed of trying to squeeze two events out of the same venue in a single night (although there was something going on downstairs).
I had never heard or heard of The Union Line before last night, but they played a fine set full of intricate harmonies and good musicianship. Like so many other indie bands, they switched instruments and everyone took a turn at playing some sort of percussion or another (there was a large tom tom set up on stage left for various members to bang on at various times). The young Masquerade crowd was very receptive and enthusiastic, startling the band as they reacted loudly to the band's every move, even cheering when their bass player untied his pony-tail and shook his long hair out around his face. The lead singer remarked several times that this was their best crowd of the tour yet, which only incited the crowd to cheer even more loudly, and so on. "We got stuck in traffic coming here," he noted, "Two hours without being able to move, so this is just great!" I know how he felt, as that sounded like my experience last time at Masquerade. On their Facebook page, the band wrote, "ATL! You blew our minds last night. Thanks to everyone who caught our set and picked up an EP." A band to be watched, and a good warm-up for the crowd and for the evening.
New Zealand's Ruby Suns took the stage next. I've heard one or two songs by them but didn't know quite what to expect. My confusion only deepened when they opened with a cover of Prince's I Would Die 4 U. It was a faithful cover and they didn't add anything unique or put their own signature on it, but then it never really took off either. What's the point of covering Prince if you're not going to make the song your own or at least get a good groove going? Throughout their set, they relied a lot on pre-programmed synth sequences and recorded samples, at times jumping around to music that no one on the stage seemed to be making. Their set wasn't helped any by the muddy sound mix either, which let the dense layers of keyboards, recordings, and vocals all blur one into the other. A trio of two keyboardists and a drummer, they sound a lot like a Kiwi version of Animal Collective and it would be easy to dismiss them as just that, but despite all of the problems they still managed a few moments of transcendence, and like the Union Line before them, everybody played percussion at one point or another.
Local Natives took the stage at 11:00 pm sharp (Masquerade apparently does have some proactive management after all). The audience, which had gotten fired up by the Union Line but were then somewhat subdued by the Ruby Suns, re-awoke in a big way. They enthusiastically sang along with every song, sometimes even drowning out the band, who didn't seem to mind at all. There wasn't an intro that wasn't met by thunderous applause, a chorus that wasn't joined, a stage move that didn't elicit cheers. In short, a splendid time was had by all.
The band opened with Airplanes, a touching tribute to a grandfather who died before he could meet his grandson, but the crowd picked up the song's "I want you back, back, back" refrain and lifted it to a new level of joyous intensity. Everyone was jumping up and down, and you could even feel the old factory floor bouncing enough to give some of us older audience members pause to consider the structural integrity of the old Excelsior Mill. Local Natives followed their opener with one of my favorites of their songs, World News, which is basically just a clever vehicle to deliver the song's crescendo of a chorus, which the crowd again took and just ran with.
Great song followed great song in a veritable love fest between audience and band. They saved my other favorite, Sun Hands, for their encore. The crowd instantly recognized the distinctive opening drum line and by the end of the song, I don't think there was a person in Heaven who wasn't shouting "And when I can feel with my sun hands, I promise not to lose her again" at the top of their lungs, either on the stage or in the audience (your narrator included).
Did I mention the place was packed? I have no idea what the club's capacity is, but I wouldn't be at all surprised to learn that it had been exceeded. We were all jammed together, and I felt sorry for the shorter members of the audience as I doubt they could see much of the stage for all the taller persons standing around them. A few brave persons even attempted to surf the crowd towards the end of the set but were generally dropped to the floor after a few seconds aloft.
I left with a big smile on my face, but it's still going to take someone as great as Local Natives to get me to go back to the Masquerade again.
No comments:
Post a Comment