Concert review served rote and late November 6
Just the way you love it. Obvs.
So by no means were we going to let our little halloween meltdown (most popular post ever!) shake us off our neverending parade of concerts - oh no, we have tickets purchased much too far in advance for that. Novemberween be damned, we had Thermals tickets for the Black Cat Saturday night, and go we would.
Thing was, it was a mighty fine day of college football on Saturday, followed by an old pal bringing by a hotly-anticipated recent purchase in a pathetically transparent attempt to reassert his dominance. Also, thanks Rusty! (Also am I really blognamedropping now? Fuck me. ‘Sup Tweaks!) So anyway, GH3 = GHfun (though still more excited for rock band thanksgiving (belated h/t to CV (whiny)) at my little brother’s house). Obviously for such a special Saturday chili was required. Now… games started at noon, chili was on all day, and by the time we reached about 8pm… I’m not gonna lie, I needed a nap. For realz.
Fuck this is long-winded - you know this about me - my point is it was a longass day and I was tired (spent the night before ’til close at the Red Derby, which is pretty much as good as the aforementioned blogs make it out to be - an acceptable bar by even my hate-filled standards) and we didn’t know either of the openers, History and Reporter, and so we actually all three (The Maestro, Meatball Surgery and myself) retired to our respective cabins for some quality snoozing before the show. It was doors at 8:30, so we figured leaving at 10 would be just fine. We left at 10:30, got there at 11, had about 10 minutes to grab a beer and they were on. Fucking brilliant.
I knew the Thermals when they were in town in the spring but… for some reason nobody else in the crew did and I don’t really go to shows alone (except for the Kings of Leon, tease me all you want, I realize the crowd was 98% douchechill but KoL was fucking amazing) so I didn’t see them back in March. I pretty much disagree with everything in the normally outstanding Catherine Andrews’ review there, though - if last March they were tentative, their sound muddied, Hutch’s voice thin (ok his voice is still thin), and a mosh pit breaking out, none of that stuff was going on this time. This was a band in control, just a super-tight set. I absolutely love The Body, The Blood, The Machine, and they played (I think) every song on it, and in perfect form. They’re also a fantastically likeable band, even more so having seen them live. I am perhaps too judgmental on this front, but I tend to hate bands that wear fashionable clothes or have edgy haircuts or are just in general too beautiful. Well, unless they’re female. They get a pass. I’m human. You know. Anyway, I like fat guy bands, and Hutch is no fat guy, but he gets a pass too b/c his rugby shirt reminds me of something my mom would buy for me. Also, Kathy, the bassist, seems fucking rad. And basically they play off of each other in the most genuine and unpretentious way - they seem like if your genius friends in high school formed a band except practiced and thought about it and got really, really good.
Anyway, my only complaint is that on their rendition of what has to be one of the top-5 singles of the year, his guitar was a little too soft in the mix to really pick up the melody. In the album version it sounds (to my untrained ears) like a keyboard, that’s what I wanted to hear. Anyway, I should not whine, they played my actual favorite song flawlessly (am I the only one who can’t help forming a god-hand with which to crush whenever I hear that song? I hope not.)
Anyway, I have managed to write a considerably lengthier review than this dude, despite agreeing with everything he has to say about the show. How?
1) gratuitous links to self and friends
2) talking needlessly about things I did (OMGZ I took a nap y’all!)
3) spending a fair amount of time googling for other reviews to link to and also other concert footage - god bless letting other people do your work for you
4) saying nothing
You know, I think I may be getting the hang of this blogging business.
Jaso Presto Nov 6
I second the prejudice against bands wearing fashions, rocking fashionable haircuts, or othersimilarwise flirting with transience. Also, even the Eddie Vedder-Trent Reznor nonwear of blank dark T and jeans is getting tired. La mode est morte! Viva la style!
Bobby McObvious Nov 14
Concur on the fantasticness of the show … and the chili … and all. And “Here’s Your Future,” which I hadn’t heard before, was indeed the shit. But I maintain that “Big Dipper” was the best moment of the show.