Something is better than nothing, right?
I’m not talking about the music. I’m talking about this review– which is completely biased, filled with personal context and therefore very very professional. Getting blacked-out and headbanging is good journalism, right?
I’m going to make this a pretty short write-up, and I invite anyone to leave their thoughts on the show, as mine are pretty much irrelevant.
I got to the Ottobar about half-way through Times New Viking‘s set– missing out on an apparently very interesting, avant-garde set by Aids Wolf. TNV sounded pretty fucking great at the time because they were bringing just enough rock for me to start getting really excited for Deerhunter. Similar guitar tones as well– old, jangly, beautiful and garagey.
In between sets I stepped outside to smoke a cigarette and, after some meaningless banter, congratulated Deerhunter bassist Joshua Fauver for his band kicking so much ass. As soon as he realized I was a fan, he ramped up the asshole-rocker vibe, scoffed to me about how they put people to sleep and started talking to some girl.
Nice move, sport!
When Deerhunter started, I was instantly relieved that the power of their music was represented very well within the live situation. Exceedingly so. Each member was right on point, and Bradford Cox’s vocals swam in and out between the lush, fuzzed out washing machine garage rock.
While their stage presence was more subdued than I’d hoped for, Cox’s attitude and the overwhelming walls of sound that he and his band mates created proved that they are making some of the best music around right now. And re-creating, re-interpreting it live.
Eventually, my co-conspirator and I got drunk enough to dance. This was, in and of itself, a strange gift. There were three main problems with this:
- No one was drunk because it was Monday.
- No one was dancing, except for the nerdy nerds that were headbanging RIGHT UP FRONT. God bless em.
- Every time we tried to initiate some sort of mosh/dance frenzy, the same two dudes just started wrestling on the ground with one another, and everyone kind of stopped and got weirded out, watching them with bizarre awe.
Wtf?! Are they touring with the band? Do they get off on consummating their love for oneanother by sweat-wrestling to live Deerhunter in font of complete strangers?
After giving up on that, we just decided to spaz out by ourselves– which we did for the remainder of the show. I woke up on Tuesday morning with a sore neck that lasted two days, and a gnarly, week-day hangover– completely worth it.
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