Seattle Subsonic

CHBP: Saturday Street Beat

July 28th, 2009

Figuring the confines of Neumos would give us a break from the sun, the first band we went to check out on Saturday was local new wave quartet Hotels. From what I’d heard previously, I expected to really enjoy their set, and for the first few songs I did (“Port of Saints”, “Near the Desert, Near the City”). But as the songs continued, I found myself with more criticisms than accolades (case in point: a track that sounded like an intentionally-lost Allman Brothers jam (whaa?) and the unfortunate gold-plated “hotel” name tags). For whatever reason, hearkening the sound of revered giants of the 80s (New Order, Echo & the Bunnymen, Cocteau Twins, the Cure, etc.) is rarely pulled off without pastiche or caricature. These guys try admirably—and succeed to an extent—but by the fifth song, I’d had enough.

.

Next on our agenda was the Pica Beats, whose last album I love but whose first show I saw didn’t quite cut it. Plus two horn players and minus one keyboarder, the band sounded flush and fresh in the summer breeze. Ryan Barrett’s guitar had some added zip and accounted for the lack of oboe and keys found on the recordings. The hirsute Garrett Kelly (also a Hollow Earth Radio co-founder) bounced endlessly along with his bass lines and Alice Sandahl never relinquished her tambourine. Her voice was clear and Barrett sheepishly warned the crowd: “no one is allowed to hit on Alice”. They led off with a song, “Turning Points” (here’s a video I shot), from their 2007 self-release All Mysteries Solve Themselves and continued on with embellished versions of “Poor Old Ra”, “Hikikomori and the Rental Sisters”, “Cognac & Rum”, and “Hope, Was Not a Smith Family Tradition”. Loved it.

.

I wouldn’t say I was impressed by the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, but I certainly enjoyed their performance. They were the perfect band for that time of day when the crowd was buzzed and picking up, the late afternoon sun was shining and nothing much mattered at that particular moment except for the music (and the beer) at hand. Their playful guitar pop is adroitly crafted and well-executed with clever lyrics, but the lines between the songs are a bit blurry. I suppose that’s intentional.

.

After a few drinks inside Neumos listening to (but not watching) Akimbo, we headed for the Cha Cha to check out Moonrats. You wouldn’t have known it to be daytime down there, what with the low red lights and throng of people clogged into the dark, tiny space. Guitarist Nathan Thelen, formerly of Pretty Girls Make Graves, has a seductively sweet voice and the former Seattle band backed up his boyish charm by launching into several jaunty and carefree pop tunes. Aska Matsumiya, who likes using organ tones with her keyboard, sang on a few songs and bunny-hopped effervescently around Cha Cha’s “stage”. They didn’t play “Sleepwalk”, to my slight dismay, but she snatched up the bass during “No Way Out” (my video here), one of their best. The “doo-doo-doo-doo-doo” chorus gives me goosebumps.

.

We were wavering on whether to go outside for the Thermals or stay inside for Champagne Champagne, and our new buddies Dave and Josh (shout out!) convinced us to stay. As if we really needed persuasion. I’ve splattered these pages with plenty of Champagne² minutiae, so I knew the place was about to bump. Sportin’ great tees, the trio of Pearl Dragon, Sir Thomas Gray, and DJ Gajamagic blew up the Cha Cha like some street-saavy art-official arsonists. Outside of “Tropical Trina” and “Cover Girls”, most of the tracks were “some new shit”, as Gajamagic’s salaciously spooky beats provided the soundtrack to the afternoon freak-fest.

.

Gossip, the larger-than-life disco-punk shredders, put on such a great fucking set Saturday night that I often wondered if I was in dance-party heaven. Turned out I wasn’t, but given the flagrant booty shakin’ that percolated through the packed-to-the-gills crowd, you’ll forgive my delusion. Beth Ditto is the voice, face and body of the group, but, man, Brace Paine really knows his way around the unicorn axe (aka white guitar). I think my favorite part of Ditto’s performance was that she was more scream than soul. Her scintillating wail really revved the crowd’s engine and pierced the festival corridor. “Pop Goes The World” led off the set, and given the Rick Rubin-approved sleekness of Music For Men, it seemed the perfect start. Outside of songs from MFM, Ditto’s affection for pop music covers shone through. The late Aaliyah’s “Are You That Somebody?” was played in full, along with snippets of “Psycho Killer” (Talking Heads, duh), “Girls Just Wanna Have Fun” (second time in two days), and Tina Turner’s “What’s Love Got To Do With It”. She even closed the performance with an acapella crowd sing-along of “We Are the Champions”, prefacing that she wanted to “reclaim it for the queers.” The people obliged.

.

Sonic Youth: what can I say? Not much, unfortunately. Pike St. was so unbelievably packed that after giving our feet a rest, it was impossible to find a place to even just stand on tippy toes, let alone anywhere near the stage. They sounded good, from what I could hear. Was the can-do-no-wrong alt-rock giant too big for this street festival? Methinks maybe so.