Live Review: Camera Obscura, with support from Papercuts--Music Hall of Williamsburg, November 22, 2009

Being stubborn and behind on the times, I managed to miss Camera Obscura on their two jillion and one spins through the city previously, but pined for that two jillion and second visit all the same; as soon as a ticket had been purchased, I started wishing the gig were the very next day. My Maudlin Career is easily my third favorite album of the year, and hearing my favorite tracks off it live almost seemed too heavenly.



Now I will state the obvious and say I had a lot of hope riding on this gig. I couldn't wait to dance and sing to all those songs I had filled slow summer workweeks with. For the most part it was worth all the waiting, although--again due to being behind on things--I didn't realize until the band took the stage and launched into "My Maudlin Career" that Camera Obscura's songs are lovely yet also really sort of sad and boppable but not all-out danceable. That and being in a tight spot meant I could only do really awkward, limp dancing through the set.

The set was slightly rough (Tracyanne Campbell's mic didn't appear to be loud enough on the first two songs, guitarist Kenny McKeeve kept losing his whammy bar, and suffered some slight technical difficulties during the encore), but the band prevailed. They even managed a polished rendition of the latest single, a cover of Jim Reeves' "The Blizzard", in spite of only performing it twice previously (and one of those times was during the actual recording).

Even if the polish had lost a little gleam, the fact that the band were so classily dressed redeemed things greatly. Falling into the cutesy fashion cliches of twee is so easy, but Camera Obscura looked mature. This may be my shallowness speaking, but their professional appearance meant I would've given them props even if I hadn't spent my work hours playing the fuck out of some of their gorgeous pop tunes.




But class wasn't what ultimately made the show for me; the openers, Papercuts, did. A whole five seconds of research on Last.fm has taught me that Papercuts is basically one person who crafts excellently gauzy pop tunes and whose touring musicians have been plucked from only the finest crop of endearingly awkward males. The keyboardist in particular was perhaps the most socially awkward person I've ever seen on stage--it was like he was frightened to even raise his pinkie finger a hair above one of his keys, for fear of making a sound and drawing attention to himself. My wildly delusional mind kind of pictured him as a twee and super cute version of Sparks' Ron Mael, in that he was stiff, made bizarre facial expressions now and then, and was in the process of growing a crazy moustache. I loved this guy. Hands down, he gets the Mr. Twee 2009 ribbon, which is a lovely pastel blue and decorated with soothing caricatures of sad woodland creatures.

Stage presence or lack thereof aside, Papercuts' music is truly worthy of investigating. Their entire set held my interest, but it was a sinister '60's/Zombies-esque song that really wooed me. When I find out the title of said song, expect to read more superlative-laced Papercuts posts in the future.

All in all, a nice-albeit awkward-night. Although, it was an indie-pop show, so I should've guessed as much...

Level of Disappointment: 4; I wanted to dance more, but "If Looks Could Kill" live was three and a half minutes of poppy brilliance, so I really can't complain.

Watch: Camera Obscura--The Sweetest Thing (official video)

Listen: Papercuts on Myspace

Live Review: The Cribs, with support from The Von Bondies--Bowery Ballroom, November 13, 2009

I love subversion. In fact, subversion in art—music specifically—may be my favorite thing ever. After kicking off Friday night’s sold out Bowery Ballroom show with the anti-lad stomper “We Were Aborted”, The Cribs launched into “Hey Scenesters.” To see a largely hipster crowd shout along to every word of a song essentially mocking them was a subversive feast for the eyes. Whether it was intentional of the band or not is debatable, but given Manhattan's large population of trend junkies and the insincere, and The Cribs predilection for talking smack on, well, everybody, my theory has a pretty firm backing.

Due to such audience-abasing thrills, I can’t give The Cribs live show a bad review. However, having Johnny Marr on board and antagonizing the very scene which bore you does not singularly redeem a sub-par live band. Not one of The Jarman three has been blessed with what could be considered winning stage banter. The first time I saw The Cribs, it was at The North Star Bar in Philadelphia. Twenty-eight people were there; about fifteen were interested in the show that was unfolding and thirteen were just there for something to do. The Cribs came on, shouted and sweated a lot, blurted some indecipherable nouns or verbs in between songs, and that was it. On Friday night, they responded to audience shouts of “Leeds!” (which is north of The Cribs hometown, Wakefield) with stone-faced, “Yes, I can see where you would confuse Leeds with New York” and other half-intelligible but extraneous remarks. Not all bands need banter nor a figurehead. If you can believe it, some bands are just adept at playing tunes, simple as. If you are in such a band, play those tunes, sweat a bunch, and get out. If you've got a Johnny Marr-like master on stage right, take his cue and let your talent speak for itself.

My other issue with the show was The Cribs sound; it's just so damn generic. While The Cribs do tackle various social issues in their songs, I just can’t see them as a life-changing band. Not all music has to be life-changing, so this gripe has more to do with my overlooking an obvious fact. The main reason I listen to The Cribs is because their music makes me feel like I’m thirteen and therefore gives me an excuse to jump around my room as such. Due to being stuck between two statues at the gig, my enthusiasm was marred. Where’s the fun in generic music if it isn’t serving a personal purpose?

Yet, there is an excuse for The Cribs’ punchy US-indie-rock influenced sound; and that brings us back to the subversion. It may be an excuse I too often rely on when defending bands I enjoy or love, but subversion works best with big gleaming hooks and punchy riffage. It’s quite hard to balance lyrics which undermine with sounds that venture outside of the norm. Thus, the same old combo of guitar/bass/drums can be excused. When your newest member is considered by many to be a living legend, you may even be awarded a “get out of your dull scene for free” pass.

Opening on Friday were the Von Bondies, or, Jack White’s punching bag, a cool Asian drummer, and two hot rockin’ chicks. Their stage presence was fine, but the music overlong and hookless. In other words, their set was the opposite of The Cribs, yet The Cribs were far more enjoyable. In reiteration, subversion music always wins.

Level of Disappointment: 7; although this rating reflects my hopes being too high than the gig itself.

Watch: The Cribs--I'm A Realist (live on Jools Holland).