At 8:20 pm on Friday night, David Byrne, and seven back-up musicians took the stage at Radio City Music Hall in front of a wildly eager and anticipatory audience. Byrne once again returned to his New York City musical roots, this time to promote the release of his 2008 collaborative album with Brian Eno titled Everything That Happens Will Happen Today. The album marks the first collaboration between the two since 1980 for their wildly ambitious, world-encompassing LP My Life in the Bush of Ghosts. Their newest effort is a huge departure from their last, this time taking a much poppier approach that still manages to intrigue and succeed.
Byrne and his back-up band (consisting of two percussionists, bass, keyboard, guitar, and back-up singers) took the stage in completely white uniforms as if they had just arrived from the future where all humans wear the same, regimented clothing. The set kicked off unsurprisingly with the single “Strange Overtones” from the new album, a track that singly embodies the approach that he and Eno have taken this time around. Byrne uses fresh, polyrhythmic beats and a solid groove in many of the new songs as a foundation for his hybrid, Pavaratti-meets-Urkel vocals. While at times sounding like a frail man being buried by the weight of the world, he intermittently soars above the music with commanding, operatic vocals that stunningly sound just as good today as they did 30 years ago.
One can think of Byrne’s new tour appearances as less of a concert than a fully-fledged theatrical performance. Throughout much of the show, I was often reminded of the nutty, yet hypnotizing stage tactics that he exhibited throughout his masterful performance in Jonathan Demme’s 1984 concert film Stop Making Sense. At Radio City, Byrne continued to mix art and rock on stage, most notably through consistently amazing choreographed dance. For each song, we see Byrne’s three back-up dancers leap, roll, slide, and spin around him as he performs. At times, Byrne would even fall into step with the three other dancers, as if naturally succumbing to the beat that surrounded him.
One of the biggest perks of the show was the surprisingly large number of old Talking Heads songs that were included in the setlist. Since the night was dedicated to Byrne’s collaboration with Eno, many albums in the T-Head’s discography were fair game to be pulled from, including 1978’s More Songs About Buildings and Food, 1979’s Fear of Music, and of course 1980’s Remain In Light. Despite the strength of the newer material, the material performed from these albums was where the concert really felt like something special. Several managed to get members of the audience of all shapes, sizes, and ages up and shaking their groove thing, most notably “Crosseyed and Painless”, “Take Me To The River”, and “Burning Down the House” (which concluded the second of three encores with the entire band wearing tutuseventually being inundated by a flurry of 30-40 younger, female ballerinas).
Byrne is certainly one of the most important influences on the history of rock and roll. As one of the key pioneers of the New Wave movement in the late 70s, his innovation within the genre resonates in much of the music being put out by today’s artists. Now, 35 years after the formation of Talking Heads, his career comes full circle in the city where his roots lie. What began as playing small gigs in the filthy, beer-soaked CBGB’s has slowly (and deservedly) evolved into selling out shows at one of the most regal and elegant performance halls in the world. We can only hope that he continues to press on with his legacy, and that his absurdly influential music never stops making sense to his millions of inspired fans.
Going to Carnegie Hall for the first time, I realized how sensually amazing of a performance setting it really is. Visually, its interior is beautiful, with intricately designed walls that escalate up to five levels of velvet seating, eventually reaching an intricately designed ceiling. Aurally the auditorium is equally spectacular. It's evident that the its spacial architecture was meticulously planned to generate clear and permeating acoustics throughout the room, which sound better than any other concert venue I’ve ever attended. Given this high caliber of performance space, it's no surprise that that Andrew Bird was chosen to play here, a performer fully capable of taking advantage of these acoustics with his musical prowess and huge instrumental capabilities.
Andrew Bird is an virtuostic multi-instrumentalist hailing from Chicago, Illinois. He began playing violin at the age of 4 and was classically trained throughout his youth. Part of what makes him so appealing is his wild creativity in finding different ways to play his violin. Whether plucking, strumming, using his bow, or actually whistling into it, his originality with the instrument is unquestioned. But the violin isn't the only instrument he carries confidently. Bird's vocals share much in common with the late, great Jeff Buckley, effectively deviating from powerful to delicate with continued control. He uses his resonant voice to sing intellectual and often cryptic lyrics that seem to be chosen more for their sound than their content. And of course, I can't go without mentioning Bird's insanely good whistling abilities which carry through and often guide many of his more complex songs into more friendly territory.
Fortunately, all of these characterics were present on Wednesday night. Around 9pm, Bird slowly entered the stage with his frail, stick-thin presence. The first thing that he did was take off his shoes on the small oriental rug that he was standing on, a way of becoming more comfortable with the unquestionably intimidating performance venue surrounding him. He opened the show by himself, playing an invigorating instrumental piece on his violin as a way of showcasing his unbelievable musical talent while simultaneously casting aside any remaining skeptics in the crowd.
Unfortunately, about 95% of the material that Bird performed with his back-up band Dosh came from his new, underwhelming 2009 album Noble Beast. While still implementing his great vocals and instrumental mastery, the songs simply don’t compare to his passionate and constantly exciting older material. The biggest and simplest problem with his new material is its absence of hooks. While his older songs would fearlessly jump from one mesmerizing musical feat to the next, his new tunes indecisively hover around ideas and melodies. At one point in the night, Bird even apologized to the crowd for playing so much of his new material.
While some songs that he played from Noble Beast were enjoyable ("Oh No", "Tenousness", "Effigy"), the excitement over these was constantly hazed over by the need in the back of my mind to hear material from the two albums that I so desperately wanted him to play. The three songs that he actually did perform from his past catalogue were mostly satisfying. While "Imitosis" and "Table & Chairs" (two of my favorites) were enjoyable, they felt a bit deflated compared to the versions heard on record with Bird often exchanging towering vocal climaxes with spoken words. It was only the final song “Palindromes” that really blew me away. Coming back for a second encore for the song, there was some serious energy running through the concert hall as Bird unleashed his searing violin slashes that open and carry through the song, bringing everyone to their feet and clapping for the first and only time of the night.
In no way do I want this concert review to sway people away from Andrew Bird. He is probably one of the most gifted musicians around today and has already put out two albums that I consider to be modern classics in the past four years (The Mysterious Production of Egss in 2005 and Armchair Apocrypha in 2007). However, the moral of the story here is that song selection is absolutely key to a concert’s success. Just like the saying goes, you’ve always got to ”keep the customer satisfied". While I left Carnegie Hall that night thoroughly impressed by Bird’s musianship and still a huge fan, his heavily-weighted newer song selection left me feeling a little gypped.
The debut album from Seattle’s Fleet Foxes seemingly came out of nowhere to quickly become one of the more critically acclaimed albums of 2008. While many compare the album to The Beach Boys’ classic Pet Sounds (with its earthy feel, rich harmonies, and consistently great songwriting) simply confining their sound to this is both an injustice and simply inaccurate. Fleet Foxes confidently combine indie folk, Baroque pop, and even elements of Medieval music to create a wholly organic sound that will grow and flourish from your speakers. The band is led by Robin Pecknold who resembles Tom Hanks’ character in Castaway in his unkempt appearance, but more significantly by being completely immersed and in touch with the environment around him (which I’ll explain more later on). Although Fleet Foxes is a five-member band, the other members essentially orbit around Pecknold by backing him instrumentally (guitar, bass guitar, piano, drums, and the occasional mandolin) or vocally (with staggering harmonies).
With this self-titled release, Fleet Foxes have created a stunningly fresh sound for modern music. When we think about past artists that are credited for having pioneered a new sound for rock/pop, the majority did so by skillfully implementing new songwriting techniques, mixing up instrumentation roles, or by using the newest technological advances. Whatever path they took, most of them were intending to capture the sound of that particular era. We have seen this over the past 50 years of rock and continue to see it today. Take for example the Arcade Fire, who over their first two albums have written very anthemic, thunderous songs that can be said to embody the general dissatisfaction with the Bush-era United States. Or take LCD Soundsystem, a musical vehicle that implements electronic instruments alongside guitars and drums to mirror the technologically inundated lives we live. What’s most astonishing about Fleet Foxes is that they are pioneering a new sound for rock not by drawing from today’s world, but rather from a past world. As we listen to these solid, reverb-drenched songs, it’s almost as if we’re listening to an echo that was first generated centuries ago rather than the sound of music being created today.
One of the most remarkable aspects of listening to music in general is its ability to act as an escapist medium. Music has the ability to take us out of our hectic daily lives and into a different, more desirable environment whenever we want to go. As we listen to music, we constantly choose different spaces to inhabit. This space can be familiar or unfamiliar, cheerful or mournful, densely layered or incredibly desolate. More than almost any other album in recent years, Fleet Foxes’ self-titled debut makes you feel as if you are being swept away to a new, entirely different environment than the one most of us live in. As we listen to the album, we feel as though we’re following the band through a rural, unpopulated landscape. Throughout the album we find ourselves marveling at a beautiful sunrise (“Sun It Rises”), strolling over a mountain pass (“Tiger Mountain Peasant Song”), and eventually walking by a river valley and rescuing an abandoned baby who floats beside us in a cradle (“Oliver James”).
Moreover, the Fleet Foxes have created a piece of work that invites us in to explore for 40 minutes, in the end leaving us ultimately empowered by its splendor. It’s difficult to predict how successful the Fleet Foxes' next album will be (which is slated for a late 2009 release). However, what is certain is they have already created a career-defining classic, one that will be cherished and revisited by avid music listeners like myself for as long we still want music to help take us away from the mundane and into the marvelous.
Key Tracks: White Winter Hymnal Ragged Wood Oliver James
Destroyer is a solo project created and embodied by the wildly talented, Vancouver native Dan Bejar. Since 1995, Bejar has used Destroyer as an outlet to carefully craft and refine his mighty and enigmatic songwriting tendencies. Although falling primarily under the genre of independent rock, Destroyer definitely should not be confined to a single sound. His influence stems from an assortment of past, well-grounded musical roots. Listening to Destroyer, one can hear the musical theatricality of Bowie, the cryptic and poignant sonic touches of Pink Floyd, and the stream-of-consciousness lyrical approach of Dylan. While partially borrowing from these musicians, Bejar adds his own signature to the mix. Some may initially be put off by Destroyer’s sound, especially those who find his vocals a bit too whiny or unsettling. However the deft listener will give Bejar time to settle into their bloodstream before casting him aside, and will most likely be rewarded for doing so.
Trouble In Dreams marks the 8th LP release from Destroyer, an album that fans of the band will quickly understand is more of an extension of the form of his last release than a movement towards new territory. In 2006, Bejar moved away from his past psychedelic and wildly over-ambitious sound to create an album that brought him back down to Earth with a more traditional rock band sound. Akin to Dylan’s classic Highway 61 Revisited, Destroyer’s Rubies (my favorite album of 2006) was the sound of a fully-fleshed out band producing rootsy rock that backed the delivery of incredibly literate and thought-provoking lyrics. With Trouble In Dreams, Bejar uses the same formula and often achieves equally successful songs.
This album is essentially a sequel to the aforementioned 2006 release, picking up right where the last left off. Take for example the opening moments of the first track “Blue Flower/Blue Flame”. Bejar begins the album by exhaling the opening line “Okay fine, even the sky looks like wine,” as if he is continuing a thought from earlier on rather than starting a clean slate. Throughout the album, the lyrics continue to puzzle and intrigue us as they always have. In the same vein as some of rock’s past great poets, Bejar has the ability to write incredibly visual and potent lyrics and support them with music that more often than not matches in quality and effectiveness.
One of the biggest draws for me with Destroyer’s sound is the unique role that his guitar serves throughout the tracks. Many of Bejar’s songs use a distorted, super-charged guitar sound that both completes and complements his vocals in a very lyrical fashion. The guitar tears through the mysterious environment that his voice paints and gives us incredible hooks to latch onto, essentially serving as a second voice to steer us through the unfamiliarity of the rest of his sound. Songs like “Dark Leaves Form A Thread” and “My Favourite Year” prove to be good examples of this formula.
While many songs on his newest album could definitely have warranted a spot on his 2006 masterpiece, there is no denying that Trouble in Dreams stumbles in spots. “Shooting Rockets” simply becomes a repetitive bore, while “Plaza Trinidad” is a bit too over the top for its own good. “Libby’s First Sunrise” is a decent but ultimately lackluster closer, ending the album with an ellipses rather than an exclamation point (or even a definitive period). However, more often than not Dan Bejar succeeds in creating a solid follow-up by using the recipe that he concocted with his masterpiece Destroyer’s Rubies. After all, what did we really expect? Sequels are rarely ever as good as their predecessors.
Key Tracks: Dark Leaves Form A Thread My Favourite Year Introducing Angels
"Oh let's get old fashioned, Back to how things used to be. If I get old, old fashioned, Would you get old, old fashioned with me?" - Frightened Rabbit, Old Old Fashioned
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