Tom Waits on helium — Passion Pit at the Moore 2009.12.09

Michael Angelakos, the lead singer of Passion Pit, sings like what could be mistaken for a 12-year-old girl. Screaming at the top of his lungs, in falsetto, Angelakos puts everything he can into his voice, attempting to hit the notes and extremes he did when recording in the studio. Trouble is, the human vocal chords just aren’t meant for that kind of abuse. Try singing like he does on any one of the songs from the band’s amazing full-length debut Manners, or on Chunk of Change, the EP that introduced the world to the genius of Passion Pit in 2008. After giving yourself a true, honest attempt at singing any one of the songs, you’ll most likely send yourself into a coughing fit of recovery to get your voice back to normal.

Now try to sing the whole album — Poof! You’ve lost your voice completely. OK, now try singing the album and the EP, day in and day out, for months on end, in clubs and venues that grow steadily larger the more word gets around about your band. We’re talking permanent damage, possibly setting yourself up to lose your voice entirely for the rest of your life. That, or end up sounding like Tom Waits on helium. This is where Angelakos finds himself today.

I’m no doctor and I’ve not spoken or read anything about the current condition of the singer’s vocal chords. But I know what I hear, and it’s clear that something has changed in him since making the recordings and performing numerous shows earlier this year. When I caught them play the Paradise Club in Boston back in June of this year, the reviews of that night in the Boston press defined Angelakos’s falsetto as “impossibly consistent.” That couldn’t have been more true.

Passion Pit were supposed to play the Showbox at the Market on October 11. But they had to postpone the show at the last moment due to the vague excuse of “illness.” Vancouver and Portland shows that followed were also cancelled. So here we are, two months later, after the band has had two more months to pound away on their limited songlist and vocal strength.

But it turns out none of that matters. No, Angelakos didn’t sound like he was at the top of his game. He was holding back for most of the hour-long set, a little bit timid, reserved, not wanting to push things too far. You could see him swallowing pretty hard and wincing slightly in pain after attempting to hit a couple especially high notes early in the set, but the more songs they played, the looser and more energetic they got; halfway through the show, the band hit their stride and all was right with the world (well, everything except for the venue. I could write an entire novel on how the Moore Theater isn’t conducive to dancing and shouldn’t host bands that are meant for getting up and moving around to).

The band touched on nearly every song in their limited ouvre during the show. “Sleepyhead,” the band’s breakthrough hit, was a highlight of the evening, with the near-capacity crowd bouncing up and down. And the encore, ending with “The Reeling” and everybody singing along “Oh NO-oo-oo” to the chorus was a perfect capper for the evening.

I hope Angelakos is able to eventually take a break, repair his voice, learn how to sing with as much might as possible without overly damaging his voice, and all while recording some great new music in the studio. But if Passion Pit comes through town again before any of that happens, rest assured I’ll be at the front of the line.

(Originally posted at Click & Dagger.)

Grace Potter & The Nocturnals at the Moore 2009.12.06

It is with all my might that I restrain myself from titling this article “Amazing Grace.” It wouldn’t be so hard if it weren’t so true. Grace Potter commands a stage. In fact, stages were created specifically for Potter to perform on. And you should be glad Deadly Viper Squad member Brittney Bush Bollay was on hand to photograph the performance; not even 1,000 words would do that magenta-sequined mini-dress justice.

Grace Potter & The Nocturnals are going to be the leading act in Southern Rock shortly, just as soon as the Black Crowes brothers finally call it quits. The Nocturnals have all the right parts assembled: A lead guitarist (Scott Tournet) that can jam out a great solo, throw in some slide when needed, and even strap on a harmonica; a rhythm guitarist (Benny Yurco, complete with long, stringy, Skynyrd-hair) who could easily pick up the lead whenever it was thrown his way; a bassist (Catherine Popper) that knows her place but plays off of the guitarist’s cues to a tee; and a drummer (Matt Burr, also sporting the Skynyrd look) who seemingly was having the time of his life up there while letting the guitars drive the band forward.

But this was clearly the Grace Potter show. The Nocturnals all wore matching black with red-highlight outfits, a uniform of sorts, bringing their level of class a little bit higher than you might expect for a Southern Rock band. Even the bassist’s own sequined mini-dress was black, so as to help her blend in with the rest of the band, all, assumingly, to help drive your attention towards Potter. Not that she needed it — you really couldn’t look away, jaw slack, possibly with a little bit of drool.

Potter would alternate between simply singing and gyrating around the stage, to throwing on a guitar (a flying V, no less) while still singing and gyrating, to singing and playing a Hammond B-3 organ, behind which she had to slow up her gyrating. But only slightly. If I had to pick a single weak moment for the entire show, it’s that the Hammond, complete with Leslie speaker cabinet, wasn’t turned up enough. It sounded anemic, not powerful, as the Hammond B-3 should.

The hour long set ranged the gamut of the GPN discography. They played a few songs from their new record Medicine (produced by T. Bone Burnett — to be released in Spring 2010). “Oasis” could have been a My Morning Jacket song, and was the highlight of the evening for me. “Goodbye Kiss” was a bit too reggae-tinged for my liking, and didn’t seem to really fit the vibe of the rest of the set. And the song the new album is named after was a real doozie, with it’s chorus ringing “I got the medicine that everybody wants,” and which ended with the band gathering around the drumkit for an impromptu drum circle.

And yet the crowd remained in their seats. It’s not that they didn’t like what they were hearing. I just don’t think they were expecting it. Not until the last song, “Nothing But The Water,” when Potter literally demanded that everyone get up out of their seats, did the Seattle crowd finally start to move around a little. Granted, it’s not easy to get into the groove when you’re segmented into rows as you are at the Moore Theater, but I did see some definite shifting back and forth to the beat. I’m looking forward to the next time they come through town, when they’ll be the headlining act, and the crowd will be more inclined to move around from the beginning of the show, rather than just at the end.

Sadly, I had to leave early so I missed Brandi Carlile and Brett Dennen, but I find it hard to believe they would have managed the same mind-blowing set that Grace Potter & the Nocturnals did.

Full set list:
Some Kind of Ride
Joey
Goodbye Kiss
Ah Mary
Apologies
Oasis
Medicine
Only Love
Colors
Paris
Nothing But The Water

(Originally posted at Click & Dagger.)