(Yeah, I finished the blog entry and got there in time for the support acts too)
First up, as featured today in one free paper's Glen Hansard-led feature on buskers, the unfortunately named Rod Thomas. Playing solo, he puts thoughts of Matchbox 20 to the back of our minds soon enough with some agreeable folk-pop, in Stephen Fretwell/Liam Frost style but constructed in the Final Fantasy style by recording bits of himself playing different instruments and looping them round and round. This has clear benefits in fleshing out his simple melodies, but eventually begins to feel a little constricting. Almost every song goes minimal keyboard melody-minimal electronic beat-handclaps-minimal strum before finally getting to the point, and there's not much freedom for them to breathe when tightly constrained by the lengths of loops. Ultimately, it feels like he's just not doing much with the cool technology that couldn't be replicated by even an average backing band.
Better by far still than Kaiko. Jetlag may have been lingering, and I don't usually go to gigs on my own, but the fact that there was absolutely nothing remarkable or interesting whatsoever about their trebly, vaguly post-punky indie proably still had something to do with my dozing off during their set.
No such risk with Paris Motel. The sinister fairytale crack and thud of "Mr. Splitfoot", magnified by proximity in cramped quarters, makes sure of that very quickly even before technical problems kick in and we're assaulted with feedback screeches. With Amy May tonight backed by 6 band members, including violin, clarinet and a new double bass player, the very crowded nature of the set up on the venue's tiny stage does have a large impact, both in a few such technical problems and that seeing the band here feels such a treat.
'We are the disasterous Paris Motel,' proclaims an elegant Amy May brightly as an introduction after those screeches, 'home to broken strings. And maybe broken bra straps too'. Gulp. A lot of eyes were surely following her as she regularly pulled up her strapless dress even before that point, though the band make for no shortage of other visuals. Their intense playing sometimes conjuring a bit of an Arcade Fire feel, especially apparent in the a capella group singing of "I Lost My Heart".
Later on there's sadly no "Static Song" but "071" is as sumptuous as on record and "Oh" even more bittersweet. A short set doesn't allow for too many new songs, but they are without exception great, especially "After Wanda" which winds its way through multiple dramatic turns with expertly handled ease. After which hearing a long delayed defintie release date for the album (September 26th) is music to the ears too.
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