Live Review: Pelican and Big Business
August 3, 2005 – Mary Jane’s Fat Cat
I missed both of these bands at SXSW, and though I own the entire Pelican catalog (thanks rmata), only a single Big Business track hangs out on the iPod. Going in, I had expected that I would find BB just, well, tolerable and subsequently melt myself to the floor in the bliss of Pelican’s double-digit melodic dungeon dusters. Quite the contrary.
Big Business, it turns out, is a rhythm section’s wet dream. I am sure I am not the only person out there that likes to plug in their bass, crank up and play the sort of irresponsibly heavy and fast progressions that vocalist/bassist Jared Warren burrito-stuffs into every song (conversations with others at the show confirmed this). And such riffing is fun for a while, but I don’t ever see myself making a go of writing a song or basing a band around it – a clear sign that not all of us have a Coady Willis to work with. Tight, dense, flattening; I lack the vocabulary to explain further.
Not having heard their album, I can say that, unlike other drum/bass duos such as Death From Above 1979, extra instruments would just get in the way here. There’s no room for a guitar, which would sound runty anyway competing with Warren’s p-bass and stack (not one but two Sunn heads!). BB is just a pleasure to watch, and how many other bands are going to seriously request the soundman make the vocals “more psychedelic” to the sound of laughter rather than ire? As their set climaxed with a punishing rendition of 'Easter Romantic,' Ted TOFD commented “I could leave right now” Indeed.
(Aside: Warren gave openers God’s Temple of Family Deliverance one of the most sincere/earnest onstage appreciations I’ve seen, but we already knew that. Even better was his calling them Destroy the Ghetto).
Pelican, on the other hand. Let me back up. Once upon a time, (and again recently,) there was nothing I liked better than to sit on a porch swing, strap on Orbital flooded headphones and watch a storm roll in. When the IDM postermen made a jaunt through Austin, I jumped at the chance to see them. Setting aside the fact that I accidentally went to the show with the-girl-whose-dancing-embaresses-everyone-in-the-club, I left the show restless, and a more than a little disappointed. Yes, they played Satan and all their other bangers faithfully and interestingly. But to stand there and watch – to not be able to sit down, cloistered in a little cozy world and soak it all in – was not the Orbital experience I was used to. And seeing them live is not the Orbital experience I prefer.
Likewise with Pelican. Some in attendance were more harsh that I would be about the relative merits of their performance. Regardless, I was restless. I wandered about and had conversations. I was part of the problem. Considering that no band should be forced to follow Big Business, one whose focus is on beauty and dynamics (rather than fierceness and power) is completely out of place. Pelican is fantastic, but like Orbital, the live environment is not the ideal way to consume their wares. Perhaps at a fantasy outdoor festival, late in the evening and before Spiritualized headlined, might be a better place to take them in.
I’m still a fan, but if it’s storming the next time they pass through town, I might be content to stay at home and fill my head with their sounds like a gargoyle on my own stoop.
Closing Flamebait: I was hoping to find a member of Houston’s Best Metal Band, Sevrin, to get their thought on the show – but I didn’t see any of them. Sheesh.
I missed both of these bands at SXSW, and though I own the entire Pelican catalog (thanks rmata), only a single Big Business track hangs out on the iPod. Going in, I had expected that I would find BB just, well, tolerable and subsequently melt myself to the floor in the bliss of Pelican’s double-digit melodic dungeon dusters. Quite the contrary.
Big Business, it turns out, is a rhythm section’s wet dream. I am sure I am not the only person out there that likes to plug in their bass, crank up and play the sort of irresponsibly heavy and fast progressions that vocalist/bassist Jared Warren burrito-stuffs into every song (conversations with others at the show confirmed this). And such riffing is fun for a while, but I don’t ever see myself making a go of writing a song or basing a band around it – a clear sign that not all of us have a Coady Willis to work with. Tight, dense, flattening; I lack the vocabulary to explain further.
Not having heard their album, I can say that, unlike other drum/bass duos such as Death From Above 1979, extra instruments would just get in the way here. There’s no room for a guitar, which would sound runty anyway competing with Warren’s p-bass and stack (not one but two Sunn heads!). BB is just a pleasure to watch, and how many other bands are going to seriously request the soundman make the vocals “more psychedelic” to the sound of laughter rather than ire? As their set climaxed with a punishing rendition of 'Easter Romantic,' Ted TOFD commented “I could leave right now” Indeed.
(Aside: Warren gave openers God’s Temple of Family Deliverance one of the most sincere/earnest onstage appreciations I’ve seen, but we already knew that. Even better was his calling them Destroy the Ghetto).
Pelican, on the other hand. Let me back up. Once upon a time, (and again recently,) there was nothing I liked better than to sit on a porch swing, strap on Orbital flooded headphones and watch a storm roll in. When the IDM postermen made a jaunt through Austin, I jumped at the chance to see them. Setting aside the fact that I accidentally went to the show with the-girl-whose-dancing-embaresses-everyone-in-the-club, I left the show restless, and a more than a little disappointed. Yes, they played Satan and all their other bangers faithfully and interestingly. But to stand there and watch – to not be able to sit down, cloistered in a little cozy world and soak it all in – was not the Orbital experience I was used to. And seeing them live is not the Orbital experience I prefer.
Likewise with Pelican. Some in attendance were more harsh that I would be about the relative merits of their performance. Regardless, I was restless. I wandered about and had conversations. I was part of the problem. Considering that no band should be forced to follow Big Business, one whose focus is on beauty and dynamics (rather than fierceness and power) is completely out of place. Pelican is fantastic, but like Orbital, the live environment is not the ideal way to consume their wares. Perhaps at a fantasy outdoor festival, late in the evening and before Spiritualized headlined, might be a better place to take them in.
I’m still a fan, but if it’s storming the next time they pass through town, I might be content to stay at home and fill my head with their sounds like a gargoyle on my own stoop.
Closing Flamebait: I was hoping to find a member of Houston’s Best Metal Band, Sevrin, to get their thought on the show – but I didn’t see any of them. Sheesh.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home