Nicest Man in Indie Rock

Another music review for Click & Dagger, but this time my review also got posted on KEXP’s blog!

Bands get tired of playing the same songs day in and day out. It’s a relief when a new album comes out, as it gives them a chance to play something new, to open a new door. But there’s a balance to achieve between playing those new songs that are enjoyable to them and playing those old songs that the audience wants to listen to. The crowd is fickle; they can turn on a band at any moment if they don’t hear what they came to hear. But clearly The Morning Benders don’t want to be tied to the past, and could care less about their past albums or what the audience may or may not be waiting for.

I arrived at the Crocodile with absolutely no expectations. My knowledge of The Morning Benders stemmed from exactly one fantastic video the band made in support of their new album. The video features the best song from the new album, but it’s not enough to base any overall opinions of the band on. Amazingly, the band played only songs from their newly released album, Big Echo, totally ignoring their critically acclaimed 2008 release, Talking Through Tin Cans. There were some great highs, some dour lows, and an amazing finale featuring the only song I knew. It was a short set, coming in just under an hour long. And there was no encore, nor were there any excuses as to why they didn’t play any older songs. I couldn’t have been happier; I got to experience the show like everyone else in the audience, collectively losing our Morning Benders virginity.

Christopher Chu, the bands’ principle songwriter, singer, and lead guitarist, does not give the initial impression of a commander. The band’s outward appearance leads you to believe they’re a bunch of geeky misfits who found each other at a Mathletes competition. Their set started out so quietly, half the audience thought the band was still tuning their instruments one full minute into the first song. But the tempo and volume picked up, reaching a climax where the band (both guitarists, the bass guitarist, and both drummers — yes, two) were animatedly slamming and strumming on their instruments, drawing the audience out of their conversations to stare at the spectacle on stage. Once you’re sucked in, you realize the appearance is intentionally misleading. They know how to rock, and they can prove it.

The band — all of them miked — adeptly played and sang backup to Chu’s lead. I feel compelled to say that Chris Chu’s voice reminded me of a voice I hadn’t heard in 15 years — that of Josh Clatyon-Felt from the early-90’s band School of Fish. I don’t expect you to have the same connection, as I’m pretty sure I was the only person to listen to them, and certainly the only person to actually remember them. But the connection was there, and unmistakeable. All of the instrumentation was fairly straightforward, excepting for the fact that the keyboardist also played a drum, effectively doubling the beats of the main drummer. He even occasionally played that drum with an Odwalla bottle.

Warming up to the audience, Chu coaxed the near-capacity crowd into dancing a bit longer after they played a particularly bouncy number. “I’m seeing some pretty good dance moves out there. You’re all looking very attractive and intelligent.” It would be easy to take such blatant flattery as being a little sarcastic, but coming from Chu you just couldn’t deny his sincerity.

After playing nine of the ten songs from their new album, Chu announced their next song would be their last. It felt like it was ending too soon, so we all assumed they’d go through the usual ego-stroking encore bullshit. Thankfully, no. The band said it was their last song, and indeed, it was. If only more bands would be so honest with their audiences. They finished their set, quickly left the stage and waded through the crowd over to the merch table to hock the new CD.

John Vanderslice (another favorite of mine, who is featured in the video linked above) better watch out — somebody is gunning for his “nicest man in indie rock” title. Inadvertently being the first one in line to pick up the new CD, I discovered I only had $11.50 when the new CD was being sold at $12. “I can give you a CD for that, no problem. I don’t even want the 50¢.” And with that, Chris Chu ever-politely patted me on the shoulder and said “Enjoy!” Smiling sheepishly, and feeling a bit embarrassed by my cheapness, I quickly carried the CD out the door and into the cold and wet night.

The Morning Benders will be back in town on May 25, opening for Broken Bells at Showbox at the Market. I’ll see you there.

(Originally posted at Click & Dagger and KEXP.)

Lonely Jetpacks

As soon as the band started testing their mics and tuning their guitars I began to regret having forgotten my earplugs. “Whoa. That’s loud,” said the person next to me to no one in particular. And when The Lonely Forest started into their set in earnest, I was forced to retreat from my position directly under a bank of speakers to the far reaches of the club to try and find some ear protection. Neumos — thankfully — is happy to oblige anyone who wants to protect their ears from the insane decibel levels being pumped out overhead.

Returning to the floor with my ears plugged, I settled in for the remainder of the Anacortes, Washington band’s set. I’d heard the name Lonely Forest before, most likely thanks to KEXP, but I would have been hard pressed to come up with the name of a song or an album. It turns out that wouldn’t matter, as the band proceeded to play almost an entire set of brand new songs. The capacity crowd was decidedly uninterested as the band got underway, but it didn’t take long before we all came around, attention rapt. Halfway through their second song, “Tunnels” from the band’s forthcoming new album, drummer Braydn Krueger was allowed to perform a minor miracle on his kit. His solo was a beautiful thing. Based on that performance alone I would have called the band’s opening set a rousing success.

With lead singer John Van Deusen’s vocals mixed to a level well above those of the other instruments, I was reminded of a few bands where the vocals play an unusually loud part of the mix. A friend of mine said there was more than a little Death Cab in there, but to me it was more refined than that — a sort of Harvey Danger meets the Dismemberment Plan. While his voice wasn’t as melodic as Sean Nelson’s (nor his prose as unique), it was definitely equal to if not better than Travis Morrison’s (at least during the Plan’s heyday. He’s taken a different vocal path with his solo career). And while the clear-as-day lyrics were a bit clichéd at times, Lonely Forest is young enough that with time I’m confident they’ll come around to deeper, more original lyrical fare. As the middle act for this leg of the tour, they set the bar quite high for the headliner. I’m confident they have a long and fruitful career ahead of them.

After months upon months of touring around the globe, Adam Thompson of We Were Promised Jetpacks is a man of very few words. It’s not often you see a band headline their own sold-out tour less than six months after their stateside debut as opener for an established act. But here they were, four men from Glasgow, a bit mystified at their own success. “All of you guys are here, and we’re just a little band from Scotland — we’re not quite sure how this has happened.” Considering the band’s set was less than an hour long, I was thankful he didn’t say much more than that.

It took the band a couple songs to get warmed up. Starting off with the extreme build-up of “Keeping Warm,” it appeared as if they were just going through the motions. You can’t blame them for looking and playing with limited exuberance, given their never-ending tour schedule and the high level of energy that each of their anthemic songs demands, but I had come to see the band I saw open the show in October, damn it. A song and a half into their set, and it was quickly turning out to be more like a handful of overworked, exhausted young men.

Thankfully, after the crowd’s massive cheer following their biggest hit, “Quiet Little Voices,” the band visibly loosened up and settled in to perform most of the remaining songs from their amazing debut, These Four Walls, along with a couple songs from their newly-released tour EP, The Last Place You’ll Look.

The highlights of the show were the couple of songs that got the crowd really worked up. So much so that the floor started bouncing, similar to something I’ve only experienced at the Crystal Ballroom in Portland. “It’s Thunder and It’s Lightning” and “Short Bursts” both forced the crowd into this fever pitch, bringing along that unsettling feeling that the floor is going to give out because everyone is rising and falling in unison to the thump of the bass drum and the drone of the guitars.

But we survived, and the band finished up their short set, opting to stay on stage for their final song rather than pretending to have a “final” song and then come back for an encore. I’m a big proponent of this move — the Long Winters used to do it, too. It’s probably a gimmick for those bands with fewer playable songs than are necessary to carry a full headlining set. Why bother stretching it out when you know your fans can name exactly which song you’ll come out and play next because they’ve heard all your other songs already?

I’m dying to hear more from We Were Promised Jetpacks. Their debut and the follow-up EP just aren’t enough. I’m a bit concerned that they can’t carry this momentum forward into new territory. I really, really, hope they prove me wrong.

(Originally posted at Click & Dagger.)