I got to last night's sold-out Generationals show at Bowery Ballroom in time to see a few songs from Pepi Ginsberg's new band, Companion. Their penultimate number, "Swimming/Wave," was my favorite, with the rhythm section hitting a danceable groove as effects-heavy guitars swirled around on the surface. It was the shining moment in a set where Ginsberg's vocals often went over the top.
"This is our first time in America. We're really fucking excited to be here," admitted Splashh's frontman Sasha Carlson, looking quite young with his Snoopy t-shirt and floppy haircut. His bandmate, Toto Vivian, donned a Sonic Youth longsleeve, and as they embarked on their guitar-centric first tune, the London band displayed a strong Daydream Nation-era SY influence. Over the course of forty minutes, Splashh tore through nine feedback-drenched songs that some critics have pegged as shoegaze, but it's shoegaze cranked up to 11. And cutting through all the noise, a strong pop sensibility that at times recalled Oasis. An incredibly solid debut performance on this side of the pond.
Arrested Development's "Mr. Wendal" ushered Generationals onto the Bowery stage. Speech dropped out, and the band dropped into the jittery "Ten-Twenty-Ten." Generationals play the kind of music that makes you just sort of give up on the genre field in iTunes and resort to typing "Indie." Put Phoenix, the Cure, and New Order in a blender and set it to "pulse." I preordered their latest album, Heza, and though I hadn't listened to it much before yesterday, it gets better on every repeat. I can see it becoming one of my go-to's this summer if it ever gets fucking warm out.
In front of an alternating web of Christmas lights, which gave the whole thing a slightly Winterfest of Lights vibe, they played several tracks from Heza. Most got a good crowd response, especially harder rocking ones like "I Never Know." It was a bit of a challenge to come down after the powerhouse of Splashh, but once Generationals settled into their back catalogue, the fans and the band fired up. "Angry Charlie" and the crowd-pleasing "When They Fight, They Fight" were followed by a cover of Frank Black's "Headache," though that was lost on the mostly hipster audience. They recovered with "Faces in the Dark" and "Trust." "This is our first show at Bowery Ballroom. We'll always remember this," said a gracious Ted Joyner before they left the stage.
Applause brought them back for an encore, Ted saying, "There are a couple more we could do, so thank you." Then they played their best song of the night, "You Got Me" from the new album. Synthesized claps blended with human ones from the crowd as Joyner sang, "Every single night, you got me aching all the time." A nicely placed bit of maraca from their drummer gave it that little extra push into greatness. Sometimes it's the little things. Next came the juicy synth sound of "Yours Forever," which had fans singing and bopping along so much that it had to be the last song. At its finish, I looked down to my phone to note the show's end time, and then peered up to see Joyner strapping on his guitar. "We're gonna do one more for you guys. This has been a very special night for us. This is first song, first record," Ted announced, plunging into "Nobody Could Change Your Mind." At the song's end, the band walked offstage. Without skipping a beat, Biggie's "Hypnotize" came on over the PA, and the dancefloor erupted. The effect was that someone had taped over your "best of hip-hop" mixtape, but instead of being pissed off, you had a new summer mix and a story to tell.
I went down to the merch table, where I found Toto from Splashh sitting on a chair. "What time is your show at Pianos tomorrow?" I asked. "It's early. 7:00. But you should come," he said with a smile. "I don't think I'll be off yet," I said, lamenting my new job. "If not, we're playing Shea Stadium at 10:30 or 11. Do you know that place?" WHAT?!? I'm a little ashamed to admit that I got all the way home before remembering that the Mets now play at Citi Field. It turns out there's now a venue/recording studio in Bushwick called Shea Stadium. Generationals will be at the Rock Shop in Park Slope tonight. Go see either band. I think you'll be pleasantly surprised.
GENERATIONALS - 04.22.13 - BOWERY BALLROOM (1 hour, 1 minute)
SET -
Ten-Twenty-Ten / Put a Light On / Lucky Numbers / I Never Know / Awake / Spinoza / Angry Charlie / When They Fight, They Fight / Headache / Faces in the Dark / Trust
ENCORE -
You Got Me / Yours Forever / Nobody Could Change Your Mind
Taking the stage to the swirling synths of St. Lucia's "The Night Comes Again," the band replaced those keyboard sounds with a few of their own, Will Eubanks sweeping into "Man in Your Dreams." The small crowd gently nodded their heads as Jim Barrett sang the first verse, still unsure as to their opinions of the opening act. You could feel the change in the room when Ben Yarbrough and Tim Burkhead joined Barrett in beatific harmony for the song's pre-chorus. With the audience hooked, it was time to have some fun. Jim put down his guitar to dance around the stage while singing "Nature Boy," the arrows in Matt Pond PA's backdrop sporadically providing a Steve Martin effect. "Guilt" began with a gentle bassline from Andrew Guinn before evolving into a full-on rocker. Following a Yarbrough-helmed "Cliff Diver," the boys powered into their rumbling single "Sykia," the room now mobbed with engaged listeners. As Burkhead pounded his kit at the song's end, two girls behind me started singing "hey!" noting its similarity to Gary Glitter's "Rock & Roll, pt. 2." It was tolerable at first, but wore thin when they continued doing it as the band broke into "My Place," their softest number of the night. Barrett and Guinn traded instruments for the nearly-prog "Old Soul," and switched back for a frenetic "No Idea" that climbed "Upstairs" to finish off the set. We can only hope that Young Buffalo will visit us again this summer, and maybe they'll even pack a "Pill" and some "Summertime Blondes" along with them.
New song "The Stars Are Ours" stretched Mayer's canon into rock, finishing with him harmonizing his guitar with Christian Wunderlich's before flicking his pick into the crowd to sing "Corsican Rosé." The song unraveled at its end into some sticky slap bass courtesy of Joe Abrams, signaling the single, "Her Favorite Song." I'd questioned the label's choice based on the studio version, which seemed a little sappy and subdued, but it was infinitely better live, especially with a surprise visit from Large Professor, who contributed the rap verse from his remix of the song. So much of the night had focused on the new tracks that when Mayer dropped "Maybe So, Maybe No" from his debut, the dancefloor detonated. The old man in front of me started grinding on his date, and I laughed out loud. When the drumbreak that begins "The Walk" hit, the electricity was palpable. "I need to hear everybody sing this shit," Mayer requested unnecessarily. Of course we were gonna sing. As the band played the theme to The Price is Right, Mayer thanked everyone for attending, with a special shout-out to his parents, who were in the crowd.
If Zach Rogue's satin jacket with embroidered tigers hadn't been somewhat of a giveaway, once Rogue Wave began playing, I immediately understood why they handpicked Caveman to open. The swirling drone that ushered in "Siren's Song" marked a new direction for the Oakland band: shoegaze. Unlike Caveman, however, they didn't directly copy the style, but folded it into their established sound. The lighting design was strangely abrasive and alienating, with the band members cloaked in shadows until illuminated by sporadic blasts of color. It would've worked better in a larger room. The moments of brightness afforded glimpses of the afro-ed Pat Spurgeon, the man behind those big drums so characteristic of Rogue Wave. They followed it with another Nightingale Floors track, the even-hazier "S(a)tan."
Australian singer/songwriter Vance Joy opened the show. (Please be advised that the Bowery's backstage clock has been running approximately ten minutes fast, so show up early to ensure you don't miss anything.) "This is my first song... obviously," said Joy, setting off a string of fingerpicked melodies starting with "Emmylou." He debuted "We All Die Trying to Get It Right," a rumination on the Frank Sinatra quote about Judy Garland: "Every time she sings, she dies a little; that's how much she gives." Vance would do well to take some pointers from Miss Garland. He was a fine singer and guitar player, but he couldn't seem to take it to that next level... without changing his instrument. He switched to ukulele for the catchy "Riptide," which captured the noisy crowd's attention, but before you knew it, the song had ended and he was walking offstage.
"I Am Disappeared" was, in my opinion, the perfect choice for an opener. As the song kept building tension toward its inevitable release, I was bracing myself in case the floor was to erupt into a moshpit as it had at Webster Hall. The pushing wouldn't start until the next number, "The Road," with a grip of big dudes rushing toward the stage to make sure Frank saw it was their fat fingers in the air punctuating each direction of the compass rose. Following the breakdown, just prior to the "So saddle up your horses" line, Frank let out a yell that exemplified why I spent the extra money on a second-market ticket mere hours before the show (after the box office and Ticketbastard had failed me months ago). It wasn't the loudest or fiercest scream, but it was the purest. If anyone has a recording of the show, you must listen for this beautiful nugget (and please share it with me).
Jack and the boys kicked things off as they do on their most recent eponymous album, with the one-two punch of "Bullet" and "Turnpike Ghost." After "Kill Monsters in the Rain" from 2007's Trampoline, some crowdmembers used the break to shout song titles and gibberish. Antonoff tried to carry a conversation with them, but it proved pointless: "You know what? Fuck it. It's too early to speak to each other. We're called Steel Train. This is a song called 'You Are Dangerous.'" Jack's sister, Rachel, provided additional vocals on "Dakota," which led into "A Magazine," where Jack traded places with keyboardist Justin Huey for the song's middle section. He took his guitar back to repeatedly strum a chord while he talked to the audience. After asking who was from NY and NJ, he questioned, "Did anyone fly in?" There were a surprising number of jetsetters, and they began yelling. "I assume you're shouting the names of where you're from. Once again, it sounds like nothing," remarked Jack. Interrupted while attempting to introduce "Road Song," he stopped playing and asked, "Can you shut the fuck up for one second?" The majority of the song was performed with all five members singing around one mic, as Jack accompanied on his red Gibson. Unfortunately, I was flanked by people who insisted on singing along loudly, which kept this from being the highlight of the night. Save that shit for your car.
