The Spin
Hungry like a wolf surfing on the sea, or something
Sea Wolf rolled into town with their sweeping, atmospheric folk rock a week ago Tuesday, and we could hear the band playing from outside when we showed up a few minutes after 9. Inside we immediately saw Exit/In owner Josh Billue, who’s still working on a strategy to deal with the sprinkler ordinance issue that’s threatening to put him, and possibly other older clubs, out of business. But back to Sea Wolf. The Spin was eager to see how the Wolf’s darkly romantic, part Simon and Garfunkel, part Death Cab sound would play out in the small club. We had gone mentally prepared to navel-gaze our way through our tender, snark-free, lovelorn interior, but the band was surprisingly more rockin’ than we expected, so instead we bobbed our heads pleasantly along while the attentive but placid crowd seemed poised for “You’re a Wolf,” the ringer of a song off the band’s debut Leaves in the River. It’s the kind of record you listen to when you’re ready to, you know, think about your feelings and stuff, but live, this muscular set of plaintive rock tempered that moodiness with its bouncy jangle. (Frankly, we’re relieved—we really didn’t want to feel anything in public.) This despite the fact that the band was all sick, especially the drummer—we missed the early announcement from singer/guitarist Alex Church, but apparently the crowd was asked to view his intermittent barfing into a bucket behind his drum kit compassionately. And we did, even as he sat out a song to recover. Church and his band, which included an autoharpist and a cellist adding somber touches, were in an easy groove, and the sound was clear and soft, as Church’s acoustic buzzed warmly through a batch of wistful, lushly melodic songs. They cut the show short due to the drummer’s illness, but it was just the right introduction to a new band for a captive audience. The next day, we would see the band nursing their colds at Noshville, but up next were Nada Surf, who wowed us yet again with a set of catchy, rocktastic pop. Opening with “Happy Kid” and trotting out tons of favorites from Let Go and The Weight Is a Gift, the band focused on their more recent material—the dude in the back yelling, “Play ‘Popular’ ” can suck it. The crowd contained some obvious die-hards, people mouthing along with all the words and more than willing to help frontman Matthew Caws out with his “Aw, Fuck it”/ “Fuck it” call-and-response during “Blankest Year.” Perhaps the most inspiring thing about this New York City trio is their tightness—after more than a decade of band bliss they know each other pretty darn well.
Beerbecue
By the time we were drunk enough to be craving it, the free barbecue at Glossary’s Thursday night CD release show at The Basement was gone—fortunately there was plenty of meaty rock to satisfy our needs. First up was Hands Down Finger—a revolving lineup that started off playing Hands Down Eugene songs, then traded off a few members and started playing Ghostfinger songs. Matt Moody, Matt Rowland and Todd Beene did double duty, while Andy Wilhite and Richie Kirkpatrick simply over-lapped for a couple numbers. Speaking of Kirkpatrick—his leopard print stirrup pants left very little to the imagination. By the time Glossary took the stage, the Red Sox had won and everyone had settled into a solid little buzz. The Murfreesboro quintet launched into a hearty chunk of material off the recently released The Better Angels of Our Nature (available for free download at glossary.us), sounding as lush and rollicking as ever. They closed with a couple classics off last year’s For What I Don’t Become, and sent us off into the night feeling full and satisfied.
Reliably rocked
Cannery shows can be a mixed bag of indie rockers and more mainstream crowds—anyone who can pack a venue of 1,000-plus capacity has to draw from more than one well. So when Spoon—indie rock’s best-kept secret till now—came back through Nashville to wrap up their U.S. dates for the addictively catchy and meticulous Ga Ga Ga Ga Ga, we weren’t surprised to see girls dressed for a sorority event or dudes in business casual littered among your typical indie showgoers. That’s ’cause Spoon make the kind of pop that goes both ways—a delight for studio dorks, a toe-tapper for the average music fan. We spied Britt Daniel wandering around the crowd before showtime, stopped occasionally by gushing fans, one of whom said with breathless giggles, “Love your music—I know that’s obvious since I’m here and everything, but I love your music!” To which a gracious Daniel replied, “Thanks for saying so—and no, actually it’s not obvious just because you’re here.” (And we like, totally met him you guys OMG! And, oh, what a charmer.) There was even a program guide available for the show, a one-page Xerox of what looked like a family tree. The Ponys were up first, and their first few songs failed to prick up these oversaturated Spin ears, but as the set went on, their dissonant, dynamic ’90s-core feedback and girl bassist grew on us. Soon it was time for Spoon, though, and they launched into “Japanese Cigarette Case” and several other songs off Ga, the requisite “I Turn My Camera On” off Gimme Fiction and others from that album as well as songs from Kill the Moonlight. The band is so pro, so tight, so crisp, so well-oiled, so commanding, so solid. It’s not the kind of show you leave starry-eyed and exhilarated, but the kind you leave reliably and skillfully rocked. Professionally rocked. Let the record show that we were professionally rocked by Spoon. After the show, Daniel and his bandmates were looking for somewhere fun to go—they wanted to slum it dive-bar-style. We can only hope they ended up somewhere sufficiently incongruous to their tailored suits and smart haircuts.
Barfing drummers are pretty cool. Thoughts? Tell us at thespin@nashvillescene.com. More Sea Wolf and Spoon photos at www.nashvillescene.com.
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