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October 30, 2007

Sunset Rubdown - Live @ the Music Hall of Williamsburg, 10.08.07

photos by Devon Banks (in tough conditions)

I've been there a time or two since, but this show, Sunset Rubdown's first Brooklyn appearance in support of the knotty but great Random Spirit Lover, was my first time in the pompously named Music Hall of Williamsburg. It's actually sort of disorienting. When folks say, "There should be more venues like the Bowery Ballroom," I don't think they mean that they should actually be a completely identical simulacrum of that space. But common owners Bowery Presents apparently decided that all their Northsix demo costs could be alleviated by just using those old blueprints they had lying around. Seriously, right down to the basement bar and the overlooking balcony set up, it's a Single White Venue situation. Of course, the sight lines are good and there's plenty of room, but this is exactly the sort of thing that you might list on the con half of the sheet weighing the merits of having a singular entity owning most of the city's marquee venues. You should at least know what borough you're in, I think.

Krug however seemed fairly chuffed to be in the revamped space, playing for a packed and fanatical Monday night room. It's increasingly hard to write off Spencer Krug as a product of blog hype, or another disposable artist thrown up by the hype and destroy cycle. People are genuinely moved by the crazed energy he throws behind his vague epics. The opening notes of last year's stunning "Us Ones in Between" began the evening, giving the devoted a swoon instead of a spark plug. When I first saw Sun Rub last year, the song was augmented by a thumping rhythm. Here it was serene again, Krug lightly sighing his gloomy metaphors, and leaving the heaviness to its final boy-girl surge. The following "Shut Up I'm Dreaming of Places Where Lovers Have Wings" was fantastic as usual. There's an energy to this song that wasn't captured in its studio take, which always seems to come out when played live. The dynamic shifts are more pronounced and thrilling, becoming a launched rocket or a heart to heart chat when needed.

The ecstatic mood dropped slightly when the band dipped into Random Spirit Lover. I'm don't think it was a lack of audience familiarity that did it either, as I saw plenty lips moving precisely on the floor below. It's just that the live arrangements of the new material might need some tinkering. On record, the complexity of the songs is an asset, letting a listener slowly unlock its melodic puzzles. In the room, it was perhaps a bit busy (they've added an extra guitarist for the tour), with too many moving parts stunting the vocal impact of the song's best lines. "The Taming of the Hands That Came Back to Life" and "For the Pier (and Dead Shimmering)," though enthusiastically performed (and Krug's sweat level lets you know how hard a man can play a synthesizer) didn't have the intangible emotional connection of which the group is capable. "What Would Neil Young Do?" read the banner draped over the band's tech, and it's hard to imagine that adding more circular guitars, meaningful xylophone sections, and lyrics about leopard riding would be that question's answer. It wasn't until the relatively stripped down authority of "Winged/Wicked Things" that a performance of a new song surpassed its recording, rather than merely executing it. That's a tough, high bar, I know, but the man has earned his high expectations. A regal "Stadiums and Shrines" gave the short proper set its needed climactic release.

The encore, or "half-core" as Krug called it since he never fully left the stage, fell back again on older torch songs. The two installments of "Three Colours" (from the self titled EP released in the first months of '06) were melted together into one shivering epic. Finally getting to hear the band tackle the wailing wind tunnel effect from the song's second half was probably my personal highlight for the entire show. For most everyone else, it had to be closer, "the Empty Threats of Little Lord." I hadn't considered that track to be the band's communal torch song, but that's how it was received. I'd say an easy third of the room chanted "You Snake..." back at Spencer when the ratched up its building tension. More than half, were ready to riot when the drums and guitar meltdown finally released it.

A couple more murky photos and a setlist after the jump...

Posted by Jeff Klingman at October 30, 2007 02:30 PM

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