Saturday, February 19, 2011

The Church’s Sonic Triumvirate

The Church at Showcase Live, Foxboro, Mass. 2/18/11

Last night I saw one of the most unique rock concerts I’ve ever seen – and it was by a band I’ve seen perform live more than a dozen times! The Church took the currently fashionable concept of performing a favorite album live in its entirety to a new level, playing three albums from beginning to end. The result was a very different concert experience — somewhat akin to watching a three-act play, albeit a psychedelically energetic one.

The pace and expectations of the typical concert were transformed during the Aussie art rockers’ most recent visit to Showcase Live, a venue found in the shadow of the New England Patriots’ home turf in Foxborough, Mass. Given the set structure, you knew what was coming next, but the flow of songs had added meaning and context, and each album was highlighted in a new way when juxtaposed with the others.

The three records the 30-year-old band is presenting on its current 12-city “Future Past Perfect” tour are: (1) its most recent studio release, 2009’s Untitled #23; (2) its last major label release, 1992’s Priest = Aura; and (3) its biggest commercial success, 1988’s Starfish.

The concert was strategically sequenced, beginning with the slowly building, atmospheric sheen and thoughtful, romantic lyrics of Untitled #23. It was the perfect lead in to what was to come, and it simultaneously highlighted the ongoing quality of the band’s creativity – even at this advanced point in its career – as well as the diversity of its catalog (despite maintaining a characteristic “Church sound” since the first L.P., Of Skins and Heart, in 1981).

As we learned from frontman Steve Kilbey early on, the nature of this performance necessitated less of the usual between-song banter so the intended flow of the songs would not be disrupted – though he was clearly tempted into straying from that dictate at times, especially during the first and last sets.











Several of the songs in the opening set stood out in this live performance much more than on the original album release. Of course, “Deadman’s Hand” provided some catchy riff-rock, and “Pangaea” some pop punch, but “Space Saviour,” “On Angel Street” and “Anchorage” came to the fore, glimmering more spectacularly than ever.

“On Angel Street,” in particular, seemed transformed into one of the most bluesy excursions I’ve ever heard The Church undertake, with guitarist Peter Koppes channeling David Gilmour. (Floydian references have always been as much a part of The Church sound as the Television-like dual guitar interplay, but it has typically been the spacey side of Floyd, not the bluesy riffs side.)

As on their 2009 “Love Will Find Us” tour in support of Untitled #23, the band members once again switched instruments for several songs. This mostly involved guitarist Marty Willson-Piper and singer/bassist Kilbey swapping positions, though Koppes and additional backing keyboardist/guitarist Craig Wilson did some instrument swapping as well. Drummer Tim Powles remained behind the kit throughout. The Untitled songs themselves were changed some from their live debut in 2009: proof again that The Church’s music – new or old – is ever evolving.











As promised, a short “interval” after the conclusion of Untitled #23 allowed the band a wardrobe change and time to transition into the mindset for the dense, opiated sounds of Priest = Aura. Long a favorite among the band’s hardcore followers (me included), this record is especially suited to the performance-as-a-whole approach. It rocks out much more than Untitled #23, yet its layered guitar sound is also coupled with rich lyrical narrative and diverse song craft – from the pop sheen of “Ripple,” “Kings” and “Feel” to the near-cabaret-meets-Kurt-Weil melodies of “Witch Hunt” and “The Disillusionist.” In total, it’s an epic piece of work.

“Aura” kicked off the second set slowly, but Marty’s fierce guitar tones were soon piercing the hypnotic waves of sound. The poppy aspects of the album (noted above) were sprinkled throughout the set, brightening the sound palette of Priest’s otherwise heavy sonic landscape.

Kilbey’s continuing rebirth as a performer since kicking heroin earlier in the decade was amply evident in this second set. Songs during which SK once stood stationary at the mic – concentrating on his pulsing bass riffs and perpetually rhyming vocal phrases – were now accompanied by purposeful prancing and flamboyant gesticulation. We saw the first displays of his newly animated stage persona on the 2009 Untitled tour, but this night, at times, it seemed a bit over the top.

This exuberance was most evident during “The Disillusionist.” The singer, freed from bass or guitar (as he was a handful of times during the night), punctuated the vocal lines with deliberate stabs at the air. Nevertheless, with Kilbey’s increasingly maniacal run through the song’s lengthy narrative (a formidable memory exercise in itself), the guitarists’ soaring accompaniment and Powles’ deft cymbal work, the song was a surprising highpoint of the middle set.

Overwrought physical expressionism aside, it was refreshing for long-time fans to see Kilbey look like he’s actually having fun. For their part Koppes and Willson-Piper conducted their complementary six-string interplay with the usual aplomb. They tangled in electronic frenzy for “Chaos,” the penultimate song of the set, while Powles kept some semblance of structure to the affair. The middle set concluded with the sublimely understated atmospherics of “Film,” a soundtrack to an imaginary movie, which could be said about much of the music on this markedly cinematic album.

Apropos to that, during the Priest = Aura set, as well as the final segment of the night, the film and slide images projected onto the screen behind the band became increasingly active and engaging, adding a fitting visual embellishment to the sonic swirl emanating from the stage. (This venue, by the way, has great sound and sightlines, too bad it doesn’t get great original artists gracing the stage more often.)

Though never boring or tedious, there was an undeniable element of endurance to the proceedings – for band and audience alike. It’s not too often these days (this side of Bruce Springsteen at least) that you get a three-plus hour concert from a single act. The brief breaks between each album definitely helped: pauses that refreshed, giving all a chance to catch their breath before the next excursion.











For the last set of the night, the familiar jaunty pop sound of Starfish was particularly effective.

Standouts tracks of this finale included the opener, “Destination,” which ended with some frenetic guitar by MWP; the angels in overdrive acceleration of “North, South, East and West”(one of the absolute highlights of the whole night); and the crowd-favorite, “Reptile,” with MWP’s trademark buoyant lick bobbing above Koppes’ sinister counter melody. Of course, “Under the Milky Way” was effectively delivered and enthusiastically received, even if it’s just another song in the band’s view.

The night ended appropriately with the oft-employed closing track, “Hotel Womb.” It was a majestic finish to a fantastically fulfilling concert. And the icing on the cake? Despite the promo materials for the tour, Marty no longer looks like Rasputin!

Hardly the best song performance of the night (great tune though), but a subtle kickoff to a fairly raucous final set of the lengthy concert.



Wednesday, February 2, 2011

No More Peppermint Punk Blues

The Whites Stripes at the Reading Festival, UK, 2002

It couldn’t have struck anyone who follows music very closely as a huge surprise when Jack and Meg White, the pseudo-siblings known as The White Stripes, today announced the end of the band. Jack White has long-been as busy with other projects as he has in perpetuating the red, white and black duo’s amped up, rear-view referential, full-frontal assault song craft.

For the past dozen years or so, the duo made stripped down, old-timey country blues – albeit heavily distorted and extremely loud with a drumbeat that could’ve just been a stomping foot – amazingly hip to the modern masses. Somehow they struck a chord and reached heights of popularity far beyond what one could reasonably expect out of such simplistic artistry.

And, yes, as easy as it might be to dismiss the band as a contrived novelty, there was artistry. Sure there was the gimmickry, too: the whole former-husband-and-wife-posing-as-brother-and-sister thing, as well as the strict tricolor palette. But look beneath the surface and you can’t totally dismiss the sensibility of the “innocence,” “passion,” “experience” color theme, or deny its relevance in the band’s music.

Simple as the sound was, The White Stripes understood dynamics and song arrangements, not to mention the raw power of a ripping, sustained guitar chord backed by a simple beat and topped with a plaintive vocal plea. Under Jack’s deft hand, they knew how to draw you in and take you on a hell-bent ride to the finish. Over the years, I saw them live twice: once in a small club in Providence (the second loudest show I’ve ever seen, I think) and once in a small arena in Boston. Both were artfully noisy affairs that I remember fondly.

While their passion for the music’s unadorned heritage was obviously sincere, they were uniquely successfully in fusing shades of Charley Patton, Johnny Cash, Loretta Lynn and a whole-lotta Led Zeppelin (the real essence of Zep, not those Wolfmother, Blackbud, Black Country Communion, et al, superficial, pseudo-metal miscarriages of the legacy).

In the end, however, the band had run its course. There wasn’t much further they could take it while retaining the essence of who they were and how they did what they did. The time had come for the final bows.

So bravo that they realized that and decided to call it a day. Here’s to ’em! They made music that was simple, sincere, spirited, fun and engaging. That’s success in my book. And, I suspect, somewhere even Son House is smilin’.

One of the quintessential White Stripes songs ... Doesn’t hurt when you get Michel Gondry to do your videos, either!



Tuesday, February 1, 2011

Conjuring Up the Ghost

About time for some more Mark Cutler ...


Nice professionally done video for one of the many wonderful songs on Mark’s 2010 CD Red. Besides the fine performance, there’s impressive work by Guy Benoit (director), William Smyth (cinematographer) and Jack McKenna (editor).

My favorite line: “I got floaters in my eyes and ringing in my ears. I always hear something when there’s nothing to hear. I always hear something when nothing’s there. I’m looking at the ceiling with a crazy man stare.”