THE CLOAK OX - Wonder Ballroom 23 Jan 2014
THE WE SHARED MILK & YUCK - Mississippi Studios 23 Jan 2014
Oh my goodness, at last. What seems like years ago - it was last September - I reviewed Shoot The Dog for the online site I write for (my other music obsessive gig) and knew right then it was going to be a steep climb for any other album to beat it to the top of my top 10 of 2014 list. None made it. I also knew they were slated to play Portland but not until January, an eternity but thankfully eternity's passed, the night is here, the band were kind enough to put me on the list which is a good thing as I'd forgotten that headliner Volcano Choir was is Bon Iver frontman Justin Vernon's post rock outfit and the show sold out many weeks ago. All of which adds up to me having to admit that this is as giddy as I've been at the prospect of seeing a band for as long as I can remember. Show's got an 8:30 start time at the Wonder (which is also good since I overbooked myself and agreed to blog Yuck at the Mississippi as well; can hardly wait to see all the Volcano Choir fans faces as I leave without seeing their band. Ah well, some things can't be helped.
So, no surprise, parking is at a premium around the Wonder. I'm two blocks up on Graham, gotta walk through a biting wind but nothing will stay my enthusiasm, I'm feeling this boost of anticipative energy that reminds me of walking toward Winterland during high school. Once inside the scene is a bit subdued, no great teeming crowd yet and they're skewing young (so hey, maybe I am too, magic mirror and all that, so long as I don't, y'know, look in an actual mirror)
The Cloak Ox are a bit of a Minneapolis/St Paul supergroup, comprising members of Fog (guitarist/singer Andrew Broder), Andrew Bird (guitarist Jeremy Ylvisaker), Dosh (drummer Martin Dosh) and "just about everyone else" (bass player Mark Erickson) but even considering that, the power of their debut album simply stunned. I'm not often brought up short by an unexpected album but of course love it when it happens, what better listening experience is there, eh? Well, except for seeing an album like that played live. The band appear promptly at the appointed time and proceed to do, well, just about that, if you don't count starting off with a new song (they'll end with one as well, neither of which I know the name of and so will leave them for any appraisal until they appear on record). "King Rope" unspools as an electrifying funky mash, "Pigeon Lung" is tighter than the LP version which I wouldn't have thought possible, Ylvisaker ripping off solos like God, guitar or otherwise. Then there's "Yesterday's Me," which I swear to Buddha I never thought I'd get a chance to see live if only because I wasn't sure it could be done, it's so delicate and soaring and full of passion, with several different movements all packed inside a quasar of intensity and beauty, how could it work live? How? Beautifully, that's how. All I can say is, click that link just above, and know that it sounded remarkably close to the majesty you hear there. Also know that this time around it's Broder taking the solos.
Quick on its heels we veer into the unruly rock block, with the driving "Josephine" followed by "Prisen," both raucous and seemingly unrestrained even as they're almost unbearably tight, tighter than my teenage jeans would be on me in 2014. There's a brimming, crisp, and moving trawl through the bump and thump of "Andy Broder's Dream" before signing off with that other new one that's playful in a kind of northern soul-meets-epic midwest rock'n'roll stylee which succeeds in making me more eager for their next record than, again, I would have thought possible. And ain't that nice, having one's already sky-high expectations not only met but exceeded. Quick stop by the merch table to pick up the Prisen EP then it's sideways down the stairs past the incoming VC hordes that just missed possibly the best support band they'd never heard of. More's the shame, I suppose, but I don't have time to think on it. I've got a date at the Mississippi.
Arriving just in time for the end of Tender Age (next time, I hope; what I heard I liked) but in time for The We Shared Milk which I've heard great things about but don't think I've heard yet, even as they're a staple on the KZME playlist. Can't hear everything, right? Well, I'm certainly glad I've heard this band now. TWSM come on like a psych punk juggernaut, all splashy racing cymbals, garage guitar solo and I must say I had no idea. With the set-up of a Roland, Telecaster, Fender bass and a bescarved drummer, you can't ask for a more drivingly classic line-up. The guitarist's whammy bar hangs loose, whether from exhaustion or submission it's impossible to know. When they let the feedback ride between their second and third songs we know we're in the hands of some true noise merchants, albeit ones with a penchant for imperishable hooks and verve to spare. (Talked to Boone after the show, and it's agreed that the command they show on stage is a natural by-product of playing out a LOT). Out of nowhere they might just be my favorite (non-post-punk, of course) Portland band. They are, in fact, psych pop monsters, charging melodic and hardworking. Following their 'last' song they fall into a last last song that just about rips a hole in the ceiling. TWSM have got the spirit, chops, and wild commitment (and, one presumes, milk) enough to last the distance, a definite "keep you eye on 'em" band. And your ears.
(Quick side note, by the way: Quite the crowd here tonight, given what's going on a mile away. Let no one say that live music isn't being boisterously supported in Portland, Oregon)
Annnd, on to Yuck (some phrases you just have to say when the chance arises). A London band that released a sprightly little self-titled album of brash bash pop back in 2011, they lost their lead singer who moved toward solo pastures but the band carried on. Last year's Glow & Behold got mixed reviews but I'm guessing they'll be whacked-out good live and in fact am counting on it.
A punkish poppish proposition that remind of Green Day with a frisson of John Peel-favored DIY dandyism, they show no ostensible signs of having lost much edge, though I've never seen them before so the more experienced Yuck punter may disagree. Third song solidifies the oft-used description of Yuck, of inhabiting a decided 90's aesthetic, as it could easily have originated from the Lush Pulpy lands of 1995. Personally I think it's too early for that particular revival but then again it's been twenty years and they're not alone (Speedy Ortiz is mining the Pavement/Breeders soundscapes as we speak). Plus, they're impeccably, rather irresistibly, good at it, even as the post-C86 jangle tires after a while. But, still, I must say, the hooks keep comin,' ringing chiming nuggets with indominable vocal nougats at their center. At one point they play a song off a yet-released EP that comes off all Luna-like and it's hard to sound more promising than that.
Though some of the tracks from the new record do fall into too easy of a groove - you keep waiting for the spark to catch - overall Yuck prove themselves enduring carriers of what we might dub the 'C96' movement, arguably the last era in so-called 'indie' music where bands had a chance at a career and the music reflected that undercurrent of optimism. Looked at that way, Yuck are an essential band, a modest, craftworthy bridge to what was - and, who knows, may one day again - be possible.
No comments:
Post a Comment