This week brought me finally to the Empty Bottle for the free Monday shows, to see Lichens, someone I know little about but whose international buzz (though he's a Chicago local) packed the house. This night was also a listening party for the "Dark Was the Night" CD compilation release. The Bottle is really a lovely venue when it's not crowded, empty as it was when we arrived, all dark and dingy and displaying its past triumphs proudly like any respectable venue should--posters, grafitti, and the like. The bizarre L-shaped room is unique among music joints in these parts, although it totally makes sense and provides a nice sort of seclusion between the crowded bar and the piles of gear and soundboard that are just perched among the patrons. On this night, free PBR tall boys were offered in celebration of the release, although the bartender said it was for a Matador listening party and no one mentioned the CD or its issue-raising agenda or anything like that. I'm just not sure how these things work.
The first group to play were a noise quartet consisting of drums, guitar, and bari and tenor sax. The group set up in the middle of the floor and played an intense set. The set itself was intricately arranged while still retaining the spontaneous feel of improvised music. The two unamplified saxes played a lot of dissonant harmonies, squeals, and tastefully terrifying lines, and both players contorted and swayed like two snakes as they wrenched as much volume as they could from their instruments.
The rhythm section was less impressive. The drumming was predictably busy, purposefully devoid of time signature, and anti-groove. The guitar playing was the most irritating, displaying what Evan and I felt was a lack of development and ambition. The guitarist played a Strat straight through a Fender Deluxe turned up to an excruciating volume, and played what is basically the usual thing for this type of music--open-string extended chords, anti-solo blasts on the high strings, and extreme bending, all with little or no regard for time, key, or logic. I know this is in some way the goal of noise music--to destroy these conventions and assault the listener with extreme, sometimes discomforting use of sound--but there's something else to it than this. It felt like an imitation of noise, devoid of dynamics, development, or catharsis. Without those things, there's no way for the listener to engage, and the musical journey, while taking place in a public space ostensibly for public use, is completely private and appears arbitrary to any listener. The journey is solely for the musicians themselves.
Of course, one can minimize content with the goal of forcing boredom upon the listener, done so well in the early films of Andy Warhol. But with so much actual content--not to say musical content, but notes, volume, and movement--this doesn't seem to be the case. Hence my disappointment, augmented by fascination.
The second group to play, Extra Life from New York City, were exceptionally talented musicians who seemed to be overthinking things. The singer was a twee, impeccably coiffed bird of a figure who sang with a pre-Renaissance clarity and a tonality that reminded me of Morrissey. The band behind him played meticulously arranged, clangy progressive-goth progressions featuring unusual instruments like an electronic clarinet and a Danelectro baritone guitar. The music was interesting enough, but I don't usually go for such hyper-arrangements and fantasy-inspired lyrics. Banter of the set--"stick around for Larkin Grimm. They gave me a really positive Tarot reading before the show."
The third band, Larkin Grimm, featured a songwriter from elsewhere, a Joanna Newsom-like autoharpist who sang in the far reaches of soprano, a violinist who tastefully functioned as a melodic counterpoint, and a Chinese harpist (the only male in the group). The group had some good harmonies, but were undercut by the persona of their lead singer and guitarist, whose generally self-important air chafed me often. Between songs, directed at the soundman--"could I get more of everything in the monitors? Because I can't hear ANYTHING up here." Later, directed at the audience--"we're one of those softcore lesbian porn bands." The sort of comments, generally, that are only one step short of, "damn right you should be applauding, these songs are IMPORTANT and so am I." Common lyrical threads included the Earth extracting brutal revenge on humanity, and being really angry at someone and wishing bad upon them. I know there are different personality styles, but people act ridiculous when they get onstage. Count me in on that one too, I guess.
We didn't stay for Lichens, tired and beaten by the misguided music of these young people.
Recording is on hold for this week as Katri makes her visit from Finland. We will resume with renewed zeal next week.
