The Arcade Fire
I've been trying to write about this for three days. Not to be overly dramatic or anything, but you know, sometimes you just get touched.
Another night, some band. I always hope I can fall in love a little bit when I go off somewhere. When I like something, a play or a band or a movie, a performance of any kind, I usually crush on someone in it. *g* This Friday I crushed on a whole band when I totally didn't expect it.
I'd gotten their record and played it, through some vague references of seeing a name mentioned and thinking it might be interesting. Oh, I thought it interesting all right, I liked the record - what I heard of it through bad computer speakers - it seemed layered and exciting and vaguely disturbing. So I got the ticket, and when nobody could be persuaded to go along on an equally vague recommendation, I went alone (gah). At some point in the tram I wondered what I was doing there: I had no cash because I brought the wrong pass, I lost stuff from my pockets, and when I got there there was a queue about 100m long. Once inside I tried to look comfortable on my own, finding a good spot and not smoking because the band requested we'd refrain. I was chagrined and not prepared to give anyone or anything the benefit of the doubt.
Well, from the first notes, there was no doubt. I can hardly imagine anything more powerful than the urgency of the first song, Wake Up, being sung by seven voices at once. Those who didn't have microphones, sang along without. They sang at us, looking the audience in the eye with something bordering on defiance. When the last notes sounded, I turned around when I heard a soft 'wow' behind me. I looked at the guy who'd said it, rubbing my arms. 'So you felt it too?' he said. Oh yes.
Well, the audience as a whole didn't need much convincing; then again, this was an audience partly made of first-time-let's-see-what-the-hype-is-all-about possible sceptics, so potentially not the easiest. One of the kind I felt the Killers hadn't been able to win in November. This time, as far as I could see they quickly went over. As the gig went on, on stage shenanigans spun out of control when the frantic percussionist hit on everything in his sight and his cymbal into pieces - reminding me of Kaizers Orchestra indeed - with some three bandmembers switching instruments per song. Singer Win Butler was unfazed and went along in that eery, bordering on off-key falsetto of his without even looking at the play corner. Richard-the-multi-instrumentalist must be doing mime in his spare time. Singer Regine's expressive ways I dig, as well as her voice. Björk, yes, and off-key - well, partner those two voices with violins in the same tune, you get a strangely moving sound. So many instruments... even a plastic flute thing I used to have when I was a toddler. All this they threw at us with so much conviction. I love it when people go at it with everything they have - and beads of sweat flew through the air along with splinters of drumsticks.
In spite of what some people said in the queue, there was dancing: Power Out is not really a discotune (as they announced it), but it's close enough and everybody was willing and eager in the front rows. The electricity in the hall was high, much intensity. And when they made their way, singing, through the audience in funeral procession on the last notes of In The Backseat, I can't imagine anyone being unmoved.
I just evaded all discussion going on at the bar and at the entrance and made my way out, a bit dazed, but happy and with butterflies in my stomach.
And now I have a crush. :D
The Arcade Fire. Everybody should go and see them. Now.
Another night, some band. I always hope I can fall in love a little bit when I go off somewhere. When I like something, a play or a band or a movie, a performance of any kind, I usually crush on someone in it. *g* This Friday I crushed on a whole band when I totally didn't expect it.
I'd gotten their record and played it, through some vague references of seeing a name mentioned and thinking it might be interesting. Oh, I thought it interesting all right, I liked the record - what I heard of it through bad computer speakers - it seemed layered and exciting and vaguely disturbing. So I got the ticket, and when nobody could be persuaded to go along on an equally vague recommendation, I went alone (gah). At some point in the tram I wondered what I was doing there: I had no cash because I brought the wrong pass, I lost stuff from my pockets, and when I got there there was a queue about 100m long. Once inside I tried to look comfortable on my own, finding a good spot and not smoking because the band requested we'd refrain. I was chagrined and not prepared to give anyone or anything the benefit of the doubt.
Well, from the first notes, there was no doubt. I can hardly imagine anything more powerful than the urgency of the first song, Wake Up, being sung by seven voices at once. Those who didn't have microphones, sang along without. They sang at us, looking the audience in the eye with something bordering on defiance. When the last notes sounded, I turned around when I heard a soft 'wow' behind me. I looked at the guy who'd said it, rubbing my arms. 'So you felt it too?' he said. Oh yes.
Well, the audience as a whole didn't need much convincing; then again, this was an audience partly made of first-time-let's-see-what-the-hype-is-all-about possible sceptics, so potentially not the easiest. One of the kind I felt the Killers hadn't been able to win in November. This time, as far as I could see they quickly went over. As the gig went on, on stage shenanigans spun out of control when the frantic percussionist hit on everything in his sight and his cymbal into pieces - reminding me of Kaizers Orchestra indeed - with some three bandmembers switching instruments per song. Singer Win Butler was unfazed and went along in that eery, bordering on off-key falsetto of his without even looking at the play corner. Richard-the-multi-instrumentalist must be doing mime in his spare time. Singer Regine's expressive ways I dig, as well as her voice. Björk, yes, and off-key - well, partner those two voices with violins in the same tune, you get a strangely moving sound. So many instruments... even a plastic flute thing I used to have when I was a toddler. All this they threw at us with so much conviction. I love it when people go at it with everything they have - and beads of sweat flew through the air along with splinters of drumsticks.
In spite of what some people said in the queue, there was dancing: Power Out is not really a discotune (as they announced it), but it's close enough and everybody was willing and eager in the front rows. The electricity in the hall was high, much intensity. And when they made their way, singing, through the audience in funeral procession on the last notes of In The Backseat, I can't imagine anyone being unmoved.
I just evaded all discussion going on at the bar and at the entrance and made my way out, a bit dazed, but happy and with butterflies in my stomach.
And now I have a crush. :D
The Arcade Fire. Everybody should go and see them. Now.