It's Only Divine Right
(Belle & Sebastian w/ New Pornographers at Riviera Theatre)
I had every reason to enjoy Belle & Sebastian's set last night. They played plenty of my favorite tracks from Tigermilk and If You're Feeling Sinister. The vocals were clear and articulate, and the arrangements came together smoothly. I figured out it was the crowd that put me off--that smug show-kid crowd that wants more than anything to be deliriously pleased with itself at every second of its overdressed little life. It didn't bother me that the set plonked along in a predictable way; it did bother me that it seemed to meet everyone's gold standard, including the band's.
As long as they keep getting what they expect to get from B&S, the show kids will keep on adoring them. I'm not saying these people don't have preferences. They just have unconditional love for the band at the same time. That's how music fanatics are. They judge their favorite bands the way reasonable Catholics judge the Pope. They can choose to disagree with their idols, but ultimately the idols can do no wrong.
Belle & Sebastian might as well be infallible. They're a Godlike beacon of hope for every kid who fetishises indie rock and/or overdecorated thrift-store wardrobes. They can't blow it now unless they start breathing fire and playing Kiss covers. And even that might go over with the show kids. Rock music exists to squander itself and preserve itself all at once, and with so many coy layers of irony to look through, it's hard to tell the difference between the two, or whether that difference really matters.
With that attitude spreading among their fans, why shouldn't B&S be satisfied with competently delivering more of the same with every album and every show? The band just didn't seem to get that excited about its songs. That was the audience's job. Stuart Murdoch is an understated singer to begin with, so nobody expects him to go apeshit on stage. They just overreact whenever he does anything remotely physical. When will rock audiences realize that standing on top of a stage monitor is not a stunning acrobatic feat? How come a singer only has to cue fans to clap along to get them convulsing with excitement?
The familiar is usually good enough for a talented band like B&S. But to go through the motions, and try to re-heat them with some easy crowd-pleasing antics, just kills the fun that drew me to B&S in the first place.
HOWEVER!
The New Pornographers still seemed to be working for the adulation. They played an opening set, minus Neko Case and Dan Bejar. The Riviera has the acoustics of a (gilded, purple) cardboard box, so the guitars, bass and keyboards got pulverized into an audio chum slick. Unlike B&S, the Pornos don't really try to reproduce their clean studio sound live, even though the arrangements don't really change at all.
Kathryn Calder and Nora O'Connor took over Neko Case's vocal parts. That was OK, except that they tried to sound just like Neko Case, which really only works if you're Neko Case. Not that they didn't sing well; they just don't have that rich droning quality that makes Case's vocals, especially on "The Bleeding Heart Show," so huge and majestic.
I'm not one of those jackass fans who think they have a right to hear all their favorite songs played live just-so. I like it when a band changes its shit around. Even though Neko was awesome when I saw her with the Pornos at the Metro last year, her absence is an opportunity to try new arrangements of the songs she sings on. So why not play around with it a bit? The songs are strong enough in themselves to withstand some arrangement changes. When A.C. Newman sang Dan Bejar's "Testament to Youth in Verse," he didn't try to sound like Bejar. It was like hearing a really well-played cover. A band that's already energetic and fun live doesn't really help itself by sticking too close to its recordings. Like I said, the Pornos don't change their arrangements live; they just make the arrangements seem as loose and effortless as three-chord power-trio rock. But that starts to grate a little when a band tries too hard to stick to the recorded formula.
I had every reason to enjoy Belle & Sebastian's set last night. They played plenty of my favorite tracks from Tigermilk and If You're Feeling Sinister. The vocals were clear and articulate, and the arrangements came together smoothly. I figured out it was the crowd that put me off--that smug show-kid crowd that wants more than anything to be deliriously pleased with itself at every second of its overdressed little life. It didn't bother me that the set plonked along in a predictable way; it did bother me that it seemed to meet everyone's gold standard, including the band's.
As long as they keep getting what they expect to get from B&S, the show kids will keep on adoring them. I'm not saying these people don't have preferences. They just have unconditional love for the band at the same time. That's how music fanatics are. They judge their favorite bands the way reasonable Catholics judge the Pope. They can choose to disagree with their idols, but ultimately the idols can do no wrong.
Belle & Sebastian might as well be infallible. They're a Godlike beacon of hope for every kid who fetishises indie rock and/or overdecorated thrift-store wardrobes. They can't blow it now unless they start breathing fire and playing Kiss covers. And even that might go over with the show kids. Rock music exists to squander itself and preserve itself all at once, and with so many coy layers of irony to look through, it's hard to tell the difference between the two, or whether that difference really matters.
With that attitude spreading among their fans, why shouldn't B&S be satisfied with competently delivering more of the same with every album and every show? The band just didn't seem to get that excited about its songs. That was the audience's job. Stuart Murdoch is an understated singer to begin with, so nobody expects him to go apeshit on stage. They just overreact whenever he does anything remotely physical. When will rock audiences realize that standing on top of a stage monitor is not a stunning acrobatic feat? How come a singer only has to cue fans to clap along to get them convulsing with excitement?
The familiar is usually good enough for a talented band like B&S. But to go through the motions, and try to re-heat them with some easy crowd-pleasing antics, just kills the fun that drew me to B&S in the first place.
HOWEVER!
The New Pornographers still seemed to be working for the adulation. They played an opening set, minus Neko Case and Dan Bejar. The Riviera has the acoustics of a (gilded, purple) cardboard box, so the guitars, bass and keyboards got pulverized into an audio chum slick. Unlike B&S, the Pornos don't really try to reproduce their clean studio sound live, even though the arrangements don't really change at all.
Kathryn Calder and Nora O'Connor took over Neko Case's vocal parts. That was OK, except that they tried to sound just like Neko Case, which really only works if you're Neko Case. Not that they didn't sing well; they just don't have that rich droning quality that makes Case's vocals, especially on "The Bleeding Heart Show," so huge and majestic.
I'm not one of those jackass fans who think they have a right to hear all their favorite songs played live just-so. I like it when a band changes its shit around. Even though Neko was awesome when I saw her with the Pornos at the Metro last year, her absence is an opportunity to try new arrangements of the songs she sings on. So why not play around with it a bit? The songs are strong enough in themselves to withstand some arrangement changes. When A.C. Newman sang Dan Bejar's "Testament to Youth in Verse," he didn't try to sound like Bejar. It was like hearing a really well-played cover. A band that's already energetic and fun live doesn't really help itself by sticking too close to its recordings. Like I said, the Pornos don't change their arrangements live; they just make the arrangements seem as loose and effortless as three-chord power-trio rock. But that starts to grate a little when a band tries too hard to stick to the recorded formula.
posted by Scott at 12:15 PM
4 Comments:
Belle and Sebastian are kinda one dimensional, though? And also sort of light in the loafers?
And the New Pornos have at least tried to show a different side on "Twin Cinema," but it makes for a weak album compared to their previous two albums. If they'd just do faster songs all the time...
Yea, they are a little one-dimensional. I usually don't think of it that way, if only because I enjoy the hell out of their first two albums. It just bothers me when a band I like puts on a completely predictable show, which is why I will never bother seeing Weezer live again.
I was impatient with Twin Cinema at first, but I eventually got to like a lot of the slow stuff, especially "The Bleeding Heart Show," which I think is the best example out there of how awesome Carl Newman is as an arranger.
why let the "show kids" bother you? why not ignore them because they don't really matter and just listen and watch the band you're there to see? i mean, i know that a good crowd makes a concert that much better, but when the crowd blows, don't let that ruin the whole thing for you. i don't go to a show to hang out with a bunch of strangers (if i wanted to do that i could just walk down Sherman road and find some crappy party), i go to hear music. besides, i'm pretty sure there were possibly three other people there that didn't completely suck.
Don't piss on my already-piss-ridden parade!
It's sometimes hard to separate a band from its audience, at least for me--especially when both are disappointing and predictable.
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