Merry Swankster: Remembrances of Lights Once Lit

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October 22, 2007

Remembrances of Lights Once Lit

I don't know why it always takes me about a month to get it together enough to finally give you a written account of the shows D and I throw as Neon Lights. The (lazy) human need for celebratory vacation after a period of intense work, perhaps? The shivers I get when lying in bed, thinking of the hundreds of photos sitting in a folder, waiting to be sorted? I leave it for the historians to decide.

Well now you've got your write-up of our September 21st show, I've got my closure, and we'll leave it at that. Below is my hopelessly subjective recollection of a bill gone by. Thanks to the bands who played, the Cracker's United crew and Chris Battering Room for their lent DJ prowess, the full room of folks who turned up, and Union Hall, who provided that room.

She Keeps Bees

As She Keeps Bees took the stage to a respectable first band crowd, singer Jessica Larrabee was a sparking power line of nervous energy. Her stream of consciousness, mile-a-minute patter seemed alien from the soulful alt-blues tracks I'd heard on her band's album Minisink Hotel and its following Shhhhhhh! EP. Then, as soon as the drum kicked in behind her, her posture immediately relaxed. She uncaged an overpowering voice that couldn't be more self assured. With only that drum kit, and some sparse electric strums to back her up, the set would have felt thin if her pipes could'nae hack it. But her rich tones filled the vast swaths of empty instrumental space. In the between song gaps, Jess was back to her unending jabber mode, spouting non-sequiturs freely with no pause for the crowd's chuckles. But give her that metronome beat, and the hypnotic transformation back to fully controlled stage warrior, with a direct line to a higher plane of emotional depth and human frailties was complete. It was an opening set that, for once, commanded complete attention.

High Places

High Places were the last band added to the night's bill, but the one who completely stole the show. Lugging their own tall and battered PA into Union Hall, they were not giving their signature sound over to anyone else's whims. The band's unconventional set up featured Rob Barber on a Deacon/Deakin-esque electronics console, with wires spilling from every possible point of entry. A rig so awkward and precarious wouldn't seem capable of producing such sunny, almost tropical sounds. As Rob massaged drum pads into providing deceptively steady beats, giddy squeals were commanded by knobs unseen. To his left was a percussion tree with metal limbs sprouting cymbals. Though similar instruments of terror are used by (future High Places split 7" partner) Xiu Xiu, their effect in context couldn't be much different. In a Xiu Xiu song, the chiming metal makes things seem more strange or austere, where a High Places cymbal strike is likely to punctuate a sugar shocked hook. When all of your songs clock in at roughly two minutes, you'd better make them count, and though the arrangements were definitely atypical, they never lacked a kinetic beat or engaging melody.

Much of the immediacy of the band's music came from singer Mary Pearson. Mary's singing would sound slightly innocent even if she weren't button cute in pigtails and pink. But run through a treated mic, Mary's small voice floated over here cohort's rhythms, always direct and dominant in the wobbly mix. Her live vocals on skewed pop tracks like "Head Spins" and "Sandy Feat" were more nuanced and delicate than they are in the band's recordings. The songs ended quickly, though not abruptly. Once the melody was delivered and the textures skewed, they burned out gracefully. For a twenty-five minute set, it was immensely satisfying. Though the band seems more concerned with pursuing their art in a low-key manner for now, with D.I.Y. aesthetics taking prominence over shrewd marketing, it's hard to imagine fans not flocking to their side once more of their songs become widely available.

The band's set also made an intense impression on a cadre of front stage die hards who appeared to be holding some sort of performance art wager to invent a new dance every six seconds. Above, you see the early stages of a fan favorite, "the Vertical Worm."

the Most Serene Republic

When we started putting this night together, and Union Hall approached us with the idea of booking the Most Serene Republic, it was a fairly easy decision to agree. From a booking and promotional standpoint, the band's well regarded debut record, Arts & Crafts label pedigree, critical attention, and enthusiastic cult of fans made them a very strong and attractive headliner. From my island of personal opinion in the room itself, they just weren't my cup of soup. Though the band's small army of players were clearly the most intensely studied and musically accomplished group of the evening, their spinning parts often seemed at odds with each other. Gentle twee harmonies were crammed into ill fitting prog time changes, or simmering build-ups were rendered moot by replacing the expected climax with dextrous free-jazz flavors that stifled any chance of euphoric release. I'm all for diabolically experimenting with the standard verse chorus verse (as regular readers hopefully know by now), but the band's compositions, even when thrilling in their technical prowess, never really amounted to "songs" as I enjoy them.

But maybe I'm some sort of simp. The overwhelmingly partisan crowd cheered every wave of brass, and welcomed the fist pumping bravado with which MSR approached even their most difficult passages of work. The conglomerated fans were vigorously entertained, and vocally grateful for the Canadian twee-prog barrage. I'm obviously glad that the show was exactly what they wanted, and definitely in debt to MSR themselves for eagerly rendering that service. But, I will factually state that the booking for future Neon Lights nights will probably veer in a different aesthetic direction.

As to when those future Neon Lights show might be, I can't exactly say. It's looking like you might have to wait until '08 to get another dose of our bad medicine. When we do snap back in action, you'll be among the very first to get word, and the uncontrollable excitement that word will surely command.

Many more photos, beneath the fold...