Birdstuff seemed kind of angry last night; even Coco noticed it, saying in a low voice "Lot of cuss words" after Birdstuff asked for a cheer for their home state of Alabama. "That's it? For chrissake, we invented the fuckin' Moon Pie!" Then later, as he wound down: "Who gives a fuckin' shit about this band?" He had stayed quiet most of the set, saving his anger for the drums, so when he finally talked, the contrast between his angry humor and Coco's good-natured banter was stark.
I myself was none too patient; a crowded show at the Doug Fir is honestly not my idea of a good time. Man or Astro-man made it a good time, but there's a lot to sour your mood. I guess I just don't like crowds: I don't like people so close they're almost leaning against me, I don't like the endless chain of "sorry"s as I'm jarred by people's elbows and bags, I don't like all the standing around and the ache in my lower back.
I also don't like the waiting around for a half-hour to hour past showtime to see the band actually start, because I know it's just a cheap dodge to get people to buy more drinks and beer.
But the Octopus Project and Man or Astro-man made me forget all of these things for a while. It didn't happen right away; but eventually the easy grace of Yvonne Lambert and the unsinkable Coco lifted me out of my raw mood. Now I realize that perhaps this is the best a band can hope for; they're sort of trapped in their context, the ear-splitting volume that sometimes muddies their more subtle effects, the resentment caused by people kept waiting to buy overpriced liquor, the general excitement, impatience and mood of disappointed expectancy... They take all this on their shoulders when they perform. These two bands did it with style and grace, even Birdstuff, who, though angry, retained his sense of humor.
And Octopus Project had the double burden of opening for a band they seemed to genuinely admire, which I always thought would be tough. But they were very interesting, very engaging; I don't think they have to apologize to anyone. And it was wonderful to see another accomplished theremin player in a band that can rock.
The music of the Octopus Project is of a type that's attracted a lot of adherents these days: I suppose some would call aspects of it "emo", a deplorable bit of music jargon that cheapens the powerful and elevates the derivative. Their rhythms are driving, but back slower, more sentimental melodic lines in the keyboard sections. The effect is powerful, and in some ways, easy. But they manage to combine this popular style with other, less predictable effects, and that driving beat is still there... There, in fact, is their individual style, as it should be with any rock band. For reasons to watch them live, Yvonne Lambert's theremin playing alone would be reason enough, but there's plenty more to like. For one thing, they came out in shirts and ties. Sure, they were wearing sneakers, but I won't hold that against them. I mean, the Beatles first played in black turtlenecks and tennis shoes. And Yvonne wore a very striking green satin dress with flaring skirt and managed to look easy and natural in it... The contrast of her graceful and precise movements and the red-haired guitarist and all his angular bopping was arresting. (Buy their music on Amazon here).
As for Man or Astro-man, their set was pure mayhem. Later, Celeste said they weren't as tight as the last time she saw them (she did qualify this statement by mentioning that they'd been playing together for a short time since their breakup. She was just as impressed as I was and owns way more of their albums). Maybe I'm not as much of a music lover or as observant, but I didn't notice. I think listening to them or Sun-Ra (the great man was also from Alabama) is the closest most of us get to space travel. Tragically, I have less to say about them because I'm no musician and can only describe the performance in very clumsy approximations... Suffice to say that Man or Astro-man's engines are still quite operational. The term "space surf" approximates their sound (see Destroy All Astromen!, Project Infinity), for those of you who haven't heard their music. They're basically a latter-day Ventures obsessed with 50s and 60s sci-fi and the early NASA program. This appears in their music as dialogue samples from the films and video clip reels running on screens behind the performance; last night the images flickered on a screen and gigantic radar dish behind the drums. Occasionally Coco pulls out the tesla coil.
I gathered from Birdstuff's words that they feel they've been pushed aside. Well, if my opinion is shared by any other, this is simply not true. Their fan base is intact and always ready for more of their rock ray treatments (to treat yourself in the privacy of your own home, buy their albums).
I hope some of Birdstuff's disappointment and anger was zapped by the high-inensity Van Allen Belt of rock generated last night; I know the treatment did me good.
N.B.: We cast around for eating places in the neighborhood and settled on Pambiche on NE 28th and Glisan. That was a good choice. Since it was a Wednesday night there were plenty of empty tables, and once you're in, you're in; there's no tedious probation period while the staff decide if you're hip... They just come and take your drink order, then your food, and it's excellent. I had the Lengua en Salsa, a slow-cooked pork dish in spicy/sweet tomato sauce and rice, and a couple sangrias. I've only been there on a couple other occasions, but each time I was treated well and the food was very good. Think of them anytime, but especially when you're going to the Doug Fir or Laurelhurst Theater.
