Mostly Semantics

I mean, ok, that’s some hyperbole, but goddamned if tonight wasn’t a highly satisfying show. Be Your Own Pet made me suspect there may be more to Nashville than I’d thought, but De Novo Dahl confirmed the hell out of that suspicion tonight at the RnRH.

The Maestro definitely struck again on this one, all the credit in the world to him. This was like a sweet parting shot from him, who is moving away to the (official) city of sin. I should have known, after two years of dragging me to shows that I then ended up loving, that our last week would be no different. For this one, Tomahawk Chop and I were all the posse he could muster, which actually is probably as it should be, ultimately - if ever there were two of us who were willing to be cajoled into going to see whatever, it’s the two of us. Anyway, we got to the RnRH just as they were striking up, walked in, and I, anyway, fell in love immediately. If you followed the link above, you basically saw what I have to assume they wear every single night - it was on their promotional posters at the merch table too. Basically, picture a kind of big crazy bearded dude with a mane of straw-colored hair pulled back into a kind of topknot so that it almost looked like a mullet, wearing a crazily sequined, lightning-bolted purple blazer and matching suit. He was like a cross between a lounge singer and, um, is it Worf? From the Star Trek? (Despite what you may assume about me Star Trek is not my forte - but you know the dude, right?) Anyway - to his right, the female component of the show, who looked like a 19 year old version of Jane Seymour, if Jane Seymour were an indie pop chick. And even Tomahawk couldn’t help but admire the, er, well, the ass. Dayum. To his left, the cheesy bright blue sequined Dumb and Dumber suited keyboardist, who had the sickest moves of anyone in the band and was constantly posing, to great effect. To her right, hidden (as is RnRH custom) behind the amps, was the bassist, who was clad in sequined black and had a constant jittery, grin-filled charm about him. Great manner of bassplaying. And then the drummer had on a headband and some kind of crazy shit I couldn’t see.

In addition to looking and acting completely fun, their music: very good! Like indie rock fused with disco, except better than that sounds. Basically really fun and melodic and danceable, but organic and warm-sounding, not really aggressive or angular or electronic. Think organs more than synths. And more muscular than the standard-issue post-punk hand-me-downs that are still somehow in vogue (not that there’s anything wrong with that). Anyway, the light crowd was possibly the best DC crowd I’ve seen, in terms of NOT standing around seeming like they’re there to be seen (by who, anyway - it was also probably the emptiest room I’ve seen) or maintaining an air of superiority, but instead, to varying degrees, actually getting into dancing to the music. Had I had about 7 more cocktails I’d have joined them. Instead I did my normal bouncing in place routine quite happily, and found myself wishing it weren’t all over so soon at the end. So… kudos to you, Maestro, for another masterful selection, I will miss this among a million other things about you rather sorely. I hope someone shuts the lights out in Vegas and it descends into a precivilized hellscape, from which you only barely escape and then you’re forced to move back to DC somehow. Hopefully before football season.

Name (required)

Mail (will not be published) (required)

Website