The Weekend Last

Now that all my work is squared away... here it goes.

Last Saturday was supposed to come with two shows, one in the afternoon, one in the evening. It didn't. Allow me to explain.

The new talk of the Norwegian scene, Serena Maneesh, were supposed to play a show, pro bono, at Soundfix records. They showed up, but without equiptment. And thus our little venture into Brooklyn was nearly a bust (I did buy The Wall and Wish You Were Here on vinyl at a different record store, so all was not lost). I was fairly disappointed that the show was cancelled, but the world continued to turn, and time was a-wastin'. There was of course little chance that we would get into the sold out Mercury Lounge show later that night, seeing as neither of us are 21.

Later that night, Ross and I, with nothing to do, we decided to go to a show where bands we've never heard of were playing. It took a bit to get there; it was in a fairly shady area of Brooklyn, at the Syrup Room. It's fortunate that I knew the exact address of the venue, as the only thing that clued one in about the venue was a door with a "100" marked on it. The pseudo-venue itself was no more than an industrial garage, from what it seemed. It was outfitted with a makeshift bar and even more makeshift bathrooms.

The first act was a band called ODAWAS, were good, but nothing earth shattering. The three-piece consisted of a guitarist/vocalist/harmonica, a drummer, and a keyboardist who didn't seem to fit with the others. It seems he was a fill in, as the vocalist was always telling him the key. Their songs tended toward the melancholy, and didn't deviate from it much at all. The harmonica was a very nice touch though.

Next were Alex Delivery. They specialized in the kind of noise that is getting big these days. I must say, I'm not much a fan. Some of the songs did add some slow pop elements, which was nice, but on the whole, it was swallowed by unintelligible noise. They relied too much on a laptop, which played loops of sounds in the background of every song. Interestingly enough, the two bassist/guitarists both played a six string bass, and when they played guitar, they played it like a bass, i.e. let the fingers do the walking style. It was pretty odd to see and hear. On the last song the female vocalist/odds and ends percusionist played a cymbal with a violin bow. I couldn't believe my eyes when she began rosining the cymbal up before the song. Again, it was hard to distinguish the noise from the cymbal and various feedback noises.

Finally came the band on which I had done a little research on, Die Romantik (pronounced "dee," not "die"... it's a German thing... trust me). Their work online had been interesting, nothing particularly special, but interesting none the less. I've come to the realization long ago that it's a terrible idea to base your approval of a band entirely on recordings. Anyway, they took the stage all dolled up in full suits (the drummer's was impressive, blue crushed velvet, with a matching vest. Surely I was jealous). They went through their set, generally alternating between songs in French and those in English, and were excellent. They spiced up the whole set with songs of differing moods perfectly, and the entire time I was nothing less than amazed. This is a band I will definitely see again.

Unfortunately, we couldn't stay for the set of the last band, My Best Friend. It had to do with sleeping arrangements, the fact that we were in the heart of Brooklyn, and it was nearly 1:30 in the morning. They seem to be moving up in the world of indie, being featured on Oh My Rockness!, and it may be worth checking them out again.

* * * * *

The next day went by fairly slowly. I didn't leave the room in which I slept until two hours before the Bell Orchestre show. At Bowery, they had a really cool looking spray-painted sign outside that said something in French.

Ross and I got very good spots up at the front for the show, and we were in for a treat: a kind of show we hardly ever go to, a slow, relaxed one. Diane Cluck was opening, and she was amazing. There was something about her and her music that seemed very familiar. She used her acoustic guitar and spectacular voice to bring to life some beautifully crafted songs. She was, as she noted, the only person to put forth lyrics all night (with the exception of one Clogs song), and they were a nice interlude into the two upcoming bands.

Clogs came on next, with a guitarist, drummer, violinist, and bassoonist. I had been a bit skeptical as to how well Bryce Dessner of the National would pull of this whole orchestral sort of feel, but it worked quite well. He was far from the lead role on stage; that privilege went to
the violinist. He was all over the place and full of energy. They went through a multitude of songs, with the keyboardist and drummer usually switching from instrument to instrument. There was a vibraphone, mandolins, and even a steel drum. On the whole, I was very impressed, they more than kept my interest through the whole set.

Finally, to finish up my entire weekend (and this behemoth of a post), Bell Orchestre filed on stage, all in white, with little lights under wristbands and one on various places on their shirts. Their set, like the others, was simply amazing. I never would have guessed that a band with no vocalist could be so fun to listen to and watch. Toward the end of the set, Bryce from Clogs came back on his Les Paul. Unfortunately, he was having difficulties with his pedals most of the time and didn't come in toward the end of the song. He was able to stay collected, even though he seemed in a very frustrating situation.

And as soon as it seemed to be begining, the weekend was over, and I knew I had to go back to school, catch up on work, and finally get around to this damn thing.

EDIT: I forgot to mention that Dan Fetherston of the Oxford Collapse was at Soundfix for the show that didn't happen/to hang out. Ross was wearing the Oxford Collapse shirt he bought at Maxwell's, and we got a good comment on it. Later on, while looking for the Syrup Room, we saw Michael Tapper walking down Bedford Ave. in Williamsburg with a small entourage. It was pretty wierd.

The Links:

Serena Maneesh
Die Romantik
My Best Friend
Diane Cluck
Clogs
Bell Orchestre