The dream of the '90s
Marathon Music Works is a big room. One might surmise it'd take a mighty popular band to sell it out. But what about a basic-cable sketch comedy series based solely on inside jokes about a city most of the audience has never been to?
Making our way through the eclectic, at-capacity crowd Friday, it seemed anyone around us — from bearded, wine-sipping college students to beer-swilling high school teachers — could be a character from IFC's Portlandia. The show comically romanticizes Portland as a Northwest Neverland of residual Gen-X malaise where nearly everyone is either too hip to be practical or vice versa. The crowd itself proved that mass subculture is indeed not only a thing now, but so rampant that we've all been to Portlandia.
After a pre-taped introduction by actor Kyle MacLachlan, reprising his role as the eccentric mayor of Portland, Portlandia stars/creators Fred Armisen and Carrie Brownstein promptly took the stage to roaring applause and went straight into a bit regarding unequivocally affectionate text messages between the two. Later, they'd present slide shows of photos they'd found on each other's computers. If you're not familiar with the hilariously hardwired chemistry between these two, there isn't much we can say to make that sound any funnier on paper.
Even better was the unscripted Q&A to and from the audience in which the duo's gift for quick wit propelled the show's momentum, even when such a brave experiment inevitably went wrong. Dear Fred and Carrie: Never underestimate a Nashville crowd's willingness to grab a mic, even or especially when they have absolutely nothing to say.
More importantly, the two seemed to express a genuine interest in Nashville's more Portlandic qualities. One fellow was dragged onstage and grilled about our best coffee shop, best restaurant and best bar. According to a show of hands, Nashville is the only stop on this tour to which no one took public transportation or rode a bike.
If you've seen the show, recognize Brownstein from veteran indie act Sleater-Kinney (or Wild Flag, currently), or caught Fred Armisen's "complicated drumming technique" at The Basement a couple years back, you understand that these guys play. With the help of additional drums and keys, they ran through some of the show's best-known song skits.
While previous stops on the tour featured guest appearances from McLachlan, Parks and Recreation's Aubrey Plaza and St. Vincent's Annie Clark, Fiery Furnaces' Eleanor Friedberger was our only cameo, as she appeared for a handful of seemingly random and surprisingly earnest covers. Renditions of The Doors' "Light My Fire" and Patti Smith's "Because the Night" would have seemed more like filler if they weren't added to the tail end of the show. Then again, who besides Nashville should be more forgiving of a couple tunesmiths looking for an excuse to jam? In what was apparently the tour's only encore, the band came back out for a rendition of Bruce Springsteen's "Dancing in the Dark." An attempt at re-enacting the classic video's pre-fame Courtney Cox cameo resulted in what looked more like a Girl Talk show when another 20 or so folks climbed onstage. Like moths to the proverbial flame, again, never underestimate a Nashville crowd's willingness to grab some spotlight.
'Roo the day
Monday evening, The Spin took a much-needed disco nap, in which we dreamed that several local-rock personalities were wearing strange, woolly gaucho pants. Was it a sign of things to come? No matter, as we awoke in a hurried panic, ready to make our way across town to Mercy Lounge for this year's first installment of the Road to Bonnaroo series, where eight local acts were to battle it out for a slot at the Bonnaroo Music and Arts Festival.
Up first and playing before a packed house were The Hollywood Kills, ready to dole out their sassy, emo-tinged brand of radio rock. With sleeveless shirts, pointy boots and a frontman who resembled Russell Brand and sounded like the dude from Coheed and Cambria, they confidently active-rocked their way through a set that we're certain plays well among the Rocketown crowd.
And then it was time for another dose of active rock, as the mysterious and near-impossible-to-Google TOY, um, evanesced to the stage. That isn't to say TOY sounds like Evanescence ... they just make, you know, chuggy nu metal with electro, dubstep and occasionally vaguely Eastern elements.
Before anyone had time to prepare, perpetually-too-big-for-his-britches attention monkey (in an endearing way) Brandon Jazz entered to the sounds of Tone Loc's "Wild Thing," bee-bopping around the stage like an emaciated, glam-pop Huey Lewis. Jazz provided vocals while backed by his Armed Forces — in this instance, just drummer Jerry Pentecost and loads of backing tracks — and we must say, the DIY light show Jazz managed to muster was seriously impressive. The guy gave it his sweat-soaked all, God bless him, and we admire his chutzpah.
Colorfeels, thank heavens, brought the whole thing back down to earth a bit with their earnest, folky, occasionally Graceland-y indie pop. Their tunes are smart and busy, peppered with horns and glockenspiel, and it makes for the sort of sometimes sleepy, sometimes perky, Afrobeat-meets-MMJ presentation that we felt might fare well at the 'Roo. Unfortunately for the 'Feels, however, they broke a cardinal RTB rule and played four songs rather than the alotted three. Despite winning both the audience and the judge votes "by a landslide," they were disqualified.
Then came Laura Reed — the other mysterious wild card on the bill — who proved to be not what we were expecting. Which is to say, we just don't know what we were expecting, but it wasn't Reed's sort of hip-hoppy new soul. It was something like a very emotive, mildly New Age Erykah Badu, and certainly a curiosity-piquing bit of diversity amongst the evening's lineup.
At this point, we considered lively and dynamic party-hop outfit Sam & Tre to be the crowd faves, and the reaction they garnered was easily the most enthusiastic of the night. Their thick, monster beats and occasional dubpstep touches (wait ... has dubstep officially squirmed its way into everything now?) were laid on thick, and their energy certainly made for a fun show.
Around the time By Lightning! erected their wall of ensemble indie-folk psychedelia, the crowd began to thin. We blame that on the hour rather than the performance — obviously, considering BL took home the cup. Co-frontperson Kat Brock was absent from the lineup, but backing vocalist and auxiliary instrumentalist Serai Zaffiro McAnulty handled her duties rather handily.
The Spin got a kick out of the fact that sloppy, brainy indie rockers Quichenight ended the night. It was a totally unlikely band for the last slot, and the crowd's quizzical response proved it. Still, we think frontman Brett Rosenberg delivered the best lyrics of the night: "Pinky rings and world-music hats galore for the guys who play bass ... That shit is valid, that shit is just as tight as you." That's the sort of sentiment that keeps local music fans (and judges) in check. Because, here in our world, By Lightning! won the day. But in some universe somewhere, TOY is considered just as tight, and just as valid. Weird.
Email thespin@nashvillescene.com.
