By: Pat O'Brien
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Beatrix*JAR - Publicity photo from their website
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After a good hour or so of mash-ups and pleasantly noisy dissonance from Some Assembly Required DJ Jon Nelson, Canadian took the stage with decidedly sparse instrumentation: cello, acoustic guitar, electric guitar and a harpsichord. They could accurately be described as gothic Americana; Catherine Campion’s cello and the sporadic use of the chord organ gave the music a distinct eeriness, which placed them in a good spot--they would have felt run-of-the-mill otherwise.
I kept thinking of the The Dust Bowl and Steinbeck during Canadian's set even though the lyrics had nothing to do with that era at all, and it also reminded me of Elliot Smith quite a bit, though the soul-crushing depression of Smith’s work seemed to have been removed for the most part. Many of their songs would have been right at home pushing along a key scene from a Wes Anderson or Tim Burton movie. It was spare and complex at the same time, thoroughly enjoyable if not exceptionally groundbreaking; music that reminds me of things other than music always holds a special place in my heart, and they had ambiance in spades.
After another quick DJ set from Nelson, Beatrix*JAR arrived on stage to a number that seemed to have been culled from a 1960’s British spy film. After an intentionally goofy, choreographed robot “plug-in dance” with their headphones, Bianca Pettis (Beatrix) announced, “We met at a boarding school in Canada,” and they were on their way. Their set-up was deceptively complicated, only because it all fit on a medium-sized table. Equipment included a Casio keyboard, a handful of “bent circuit” Speak ‘N Spells, along with a slew of sampling and other equipment. To top it off a TV monitor at the front of the stage displayed an offbeat array of pictures, from what seemed to be recorded bits from the NASA Channel and old Rudolph Valentino movies to a short clip of London’s Picadilly Circus that I suspect they shot themselves.
The music included everything from samples of a record instructing how to raise a puppy to “Beatrix Jar” being spelled out letter by letter multiple times by Jacob Aaron Roske (JAR) during one stretch, but all of it resembled old school hip-hop beats and sound effects from Atari 2600 games that were run through a shredder simultaneously and then pasted back together in small chunks. It was bouncy and kinetic and felt electronic and organic at the same time. The Speak ‘N Spells were made to laugh somehow at one point, too. Machines “laughing” is always so disturbing to my ears (and my psyche) that it makes me laugh, too, but I felt like I was laughing with them, not at them. The message seemed to be: “We’re having fun doing this and you should be having fun with us.”
It was refreshing to see how excited they were during the show, smiling the whole time and glancing back and forth at one another every so often to offer words of encouragement, while pumping their fists in the air and getting the crowd into it. Too often, I find--especially with electronic artists--that the musicians are far too serious on stage and it leaves me feeling a little disconnected from the show, but that feeling wasn't present here. I also got the sense that we were witnessing a one-of-a-kind show; it seemed almost impossible they could recreate all of it verbatim every time, which added immensely to the overall experience. There was very little pretension – it was as if they had discovered all of this by accident, and now felt they should share it with everyone. I, for one, am grateful they did.
Location Info:
Minnesota Museum of American Art
Artist Info: Beatrix*Jar, Canadian
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