I’ve wanted to have concert reviews on this blog from the very first day. However, for all sorts of reasons, up until this weekend, I hadn’t seen any live music since last August. That all changed when I attended both days of Seattle’s annual Capitol Hill Block Party, which is essentially the best neighborhood music festival ever. Dozens of bands play across three stages over the course of the weekend. This year’s lineup was amazingly strong and I saw more than my money’s worth over these past two days. Here’s my day-by-day recap of who and what I saw.
DAY 1
Black Lips
Black Lips are a band from Atlanta that take all kinds of musical odds and ends (surf guitar riffs, country twang, doo-wop harmonies, etc) and wring them through a gauntlet of sweaty, messy garage rock. They write simple, catchy songs with lyrics that are built for singing/screaming along. Unfortunately for me, I know a grand total of one of their songs, which left me desperately trying to understand what the hell they were saying throughout the rest of their set. Seeing Black Lips without being able to participate in their general shenanigans is a frustrating experience, leaving you feeling lost in some large inside joke. Their set also suffered from an irritatingly static audience.
Deerhunter
Another Atlanta act, Deerhunter were the biggest question mark for me during both days of the Block Party. I’ve never been much of a fan of their recorded material, since I find their songs either grating or annoyingly ethereal. I had no real idea of what to expect from the band live. However, I was pleasantly surprised when they turned in a short set of very strong performances that left me wanting at least another half-hour of music out of them. Despite a slew of technical issues beyond their control (mics failing, guitars spluttering uncontrollably), the band came across as very charming and fun, all while playing solid, memorable, shoegazey rock. Singer Bradford Cox was a bottomless fountain of entertaining stage banter (during a mic problem: “We’re only human, so we use small electrical devices to enhance our sound. I think you know what I’m talking about…ladies…”), while bassist Josh Fauver had the most hilariously blissed-out expression on his face for the entire set. The only strange part of their performance was guitarist Lockett Pundt, who seemed relegated to the side of the stage, like the unloved younger brother that’s somebody’s parents insisted the other band members take care of on the road. His creepy mustache didn’t help matters much either.
Built To Spill
Built To Spill are probably the most beloved band to ever come out of Idaho. That said, I’m not one of those people who adore them. Led by the intensely bearded Doug Martsch, they play overlong, noisy guitar jams, perfect for people who like their music conducive to hazy, stoned atmospheres. As someone who’s not a huge fan of A) guitar solos and B) drugs, it should come as no surprise when I say I’m not a Built To Spill fan. So, during the hour the band played, I ended up entertaining myself observing my fellow concertgoers. For one thing, the number of beards around me increased eight-fold before they started playing. Many people seemed to be having religious epiphanies while the band was playing, as they were quaking in place and muttering things that didn’t closely resemble the lyrics to the songs. Just to drive all the clichés home, there was the token wavy haired blonde in the front row, wearing some diaphanous, midriff-exposing shirt and doing really stupid twirly dances. All these people were clearly communing with the band on a level I will never understand. I’m not sure if I’m all that disappointed. However, the band seemed to get the last laugh on all these people by ending their set with a cataclysmic rendition of “Carry The Zero”, which dissolved into roughly ten minutes of excruciating noise, which brought all but the most dedicated, hardcore Built To Spill fans to a silent stop. It was an oddly fitting transition to what was coming next.
The Jesus Lizard
Two days later, I’m still having trouble comprehending that I saw the Jesus Lizard. Here’s a band that has only recently starting touring again after being broken up for ten years. Their frontman, David Yow, also has a (well-deserved) reputation for being an absolute nutjob during live performances, which has led to him being banned from various venues, including a few in Seattle. So, imagine my excitement when the band took the stage late Friday evening and immediately blasted into a caustic version of “Puss”. Barely a minute into the set, Yow took the first of his many stage dives of the evening, landing on top of the crowd about five feet to my left. This is where shit started to get really intense. At most concerts with wild pits, everyone is just sort of moving in whatever direction presents itself. However, Yow’s stage diving ending up giving everyone in the crowd a place to try to get to: Yow himself. This left people in the middle of the crowd, like myself, feeling completely assaulted from every direction as rabid Jesus Lizard fans tried to touch their idol. Four songs into the set, I essentially couldn’t breathe from the combination of smoke and crushing bodies and wisely decided to sideline myself for the rest of the set.
From that vantage point, I could appreciate just how sharp the Jesus Lizard sounded, even after all these years. While Yow is a slobbering, screaming, stage-diving maniac, the rest of the band plays with absolutely stunning precision. Duane Denison has a bottomless bag of gritty guitar riffs to choose from, which he wields like a scalpel. Old(er) age has also treated him quite nicely, as he was rocking some very classy grey hair. On the other side of the stage, David Wm. Sims, one of my foremost bass-playing idols, churned out the bands grinding basslines. Finally, drummer Mac McNeilly, finally back with the band after leaving in 1997, proved that he’s the absolute lynchpin to the band’s sound, as his heavy, solid rhythms propelled the rest of the band forward. All three barely interacted with the audience, leaving Yow to be the focal point for the evening. This combination of controlled aggression from the band and yammering insanity from Yow impressed upon me what an incredible band the Jesus Lizard are and how much better the world is now that they’re playing together again.
DAY 1
Black Lips
Black Lips are a band from Atlanta that take all kinds of musical odds and ends (surf guitar riffs, country twang, doo-wop harmonies, etc) and wring them through a gauntlet of sweaty, messy garage rock. They write simple, catchy songs with lyrics that are built for singing/screaming along. Unfortunately for me, I know a grand total of one of their songs, which left me desperately trying to understand what the hell they were saying throughout the rest of their set. Seeing Black Lips without being able to participate in their general shenanigans is a frustrating experience, leaving you feeling lost in some large inside joke. Their set also suffered from an irritatingly static audience.
Deerhunter
Another Atlanta act, Deerhunter were the biggest question mark for me during both days of the Block Party. I’ve never been much of a fan of their recorded material, since I find their songs either grating or annoyingly ethereal. I had no real idea of what to expect from the band live. However, I was pleasantly surprised when they turned in a short set of very strong performances that left me wanting at least another half-hour of music out of them. Despite a slew of technical issues beyond their control (mics failing, guitars spluttering uncontrollably), the band came across as very charming and fun, all while playing solid, memorable, shoegazey rock. Singer Bradford Cox was a bottomless fountain of entertaining stage banter (during a mic problem: “We’re only human, so we use small electrical devices to enhance our sound. I think you know what I’m talking about…ladies…”), while bassist Josh Fauver had the most hilariously blissed-out expression on his face for the entire set. The only strange part of their performance was guitarist Lockett Pundt, who seemed relegated to the side of the stage, like the unloved younger brother that’s somebody’s parents insisted the other band members take care of on the road. His creepy mustache didn’t help matters much either.
Built To Spill
Built To Spill are probably the most beloved band to ever come out of Idaho. That said, I’m not one of those people who adore them. Led by the intensely bearded Doug Martsch, they play overlong, noisy guitar jams, perfect for people who like their music conducive to hazy, stoned atmospheres. As someone who’s not a huge fan of A) guitar solos and B) drugs, it should come as no surprise when I say I’m not a Built To Spill fan. So, during the hour the band played, I ended up entertaining myself observing my fellow concertgoers. For one thing, the number of beards around me increased eight-fold before they started playing. Many people seemed to be having religious epiphanies while the band was playing, as they were quaking in place and muttering things that didn’t closely resemble the lyrics to the songs. Just to drive all the clichés home, there was the token wavy haired blonde in the front row, wearing some diaphanous, midriff-exposing shirt and doing really stupid twirly dances. All these people were clearly communing with the band on a level I will never understand. I’m not sure if I’m all that disappointed. However, the band seemed to get the last laugh on all these people by ending their set with a cataclysmic rendition of “Carry The Zero”, which dissolved into roughly ten minutes of excruciating noise, which brought all but the most dedicated, hardcore Built To Spill fans to a silent stop. It was an oddly fitting transition to what was coming next.
The Jesus Lizard
Two days later, I’m still having trouble comprehending that I saw the Jesus Lizard. Here’s a band that has only recently starting touring again after being broken up for ten years. Their frontman, David Yow, also has a (well-deserved) reputation for being an absolute nutjob during live performances, which has led to him being banned from various venues, including a few in Seattle. So, imagine my excitement when the band took the stage late Friday evening and immediately blasted into a caustic version of “Puss”. Barely a minute into the set, Yow took the first of his many stage dives of the evening, landing on top of the crowd about five feet to my left. This is where shit started to get really intense. At most concerts with wild pits, everyone is just sort of moving in whatever direction presents itself. However, Yow’s stage diving ending up giving everyone in the crowd a place to try to get to: Yow himself. This left people in the middle of the crowd, like myself, feeling completely assaulted from every direction as rabid Jesus Lizard fans tried to touch their idol. Four songs into the set, I essentially couldn’t breathe from the combination of smoke and crushing bodies and wisely decided to sideline myself for the rest of the set.
From that vantage point, I could appreciate just how sharp the Jesus Lizard sounded, even after all these years. While Yow is a slobbering, screaming, stage-diving maniac, the rest of the band plays with absolutely stunning precision. Duane Denison has a bottomless bag of gritty guitar riffs to choose from, which he wields like a scalpel. Old(er) age has also treated him quite nicely, as he was rocking some very classy grey hair. On the other side of the stage, David Wm. Sims, one of my foremost bass-playing idols, churned out the bands grinding basslines. Finally, drummer Mac McNeilly, finally back with the band after leaving in 1997, proved that he’s the absolute lynchpin to the band’s sound, as his heavy, solid rhythms propelled the rest of the band forward. All three barely interacted with the audience, leaving Yow to be the focal point for the evening. This combination of controlled aggression from the band and yammering insanity from Yow impressed upon me what an incredible band the Jesus Lizard are and how much better the world is now that they’re playing together again.
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