By: Pat O'Brien, Stacy Schwartz
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| Matthew Sandstedt of I, Collosus - Photo by Stacy Sandstrom (click for set) |
“We don't belong here.”
Neither of us said those exact words out loud, but early on during the marathon Afternoon Records 4th Anniversary Party it was more than apparent. It was sunny and we were both a little restless. Was this a bad idea? Shouldn't we be out doing something? Except that this was something, and maybe we weren't as out of place as we thought. The crowd was young—we were two of but a handful of people who could have bought an alcoholic beverage had we so chose, but as the music started it seemed less and less likely we'd be called out on it.
I, Colossus was the first band on the bill, a three-piece that melded a good chunk of the awkward pauses and off-kilter song structure of Modest Mouse with a bit of Voxtrot, a host of '90s alterna-punk bands like Superchunk and a keyboard. Lead singer Matthew Sandstedt (who also appeared in service in the next three bands' lineups—Mattfest 2007 as he called it) had a voice that recalled Placebo's Brian Moloko almost exactly, which is no small feat. Just 15 minutes in, we felt like we had stumbled on a little lost nugget of the city's music scene.
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| A Night in the Box - Photo by Stacy Sandstrom |
After a quick set change (they were running late already—which is to be expected at a show of this size we'd think), Hello Blue appeared and reminded us a lot of 2001 (the year not the movie). Sandstedt was manning bass guitar duties, and while it was fairly enjoyable it was a little too reminiscent of bands like the Get Up Kids and The Promise Ring; there wasn't a lot of new sentiment or groundbreaking revelations to be had—they were a little too emo for they're own good. A good six-minute song seems to just evolve into being that long, but forcing a great three-minute song to be six minutes diminishes its overall impact. That said, there is promise here. They've grown a bit since the release of What It Takes to Wake Up in 2005 and they do show genuine promise, they just have to drop the “ring."
We were then treated to the dirty boys and pretty girl from A Night In The Box singing a couple of songs that made us want to head a couple of blocks south, drink some moonshine and hop a train out west to find our fortunes. Since its 2007 and not 1849, we settled for it being a quick, whimsical interlude before Aneuretcial started their last show ever. Comprised of Afternoon Records founder, President, and Chairman Emeritus Ian Anderson on guitar, Matt Sanstedt on bass and vocals and Elliot Manthey on drums, they had a sound that we warmed to immediately: Dinosaur Jr., Jawbox and a who's who of the Manchester shoegazers (Ride, Catherine Wheel, etc.). At points during their set it felt like you were looking back on the cool high school years you never had, but hey, music is about escape, so it was fine to just go with it. Much of the crowd was genuinely deflated when they were done. R.I.P. Hardest To Spell Band Name Ever.
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| Scott Hefte of Superdanger - Photo by Stacy Sandstrom |
Superdanger hit the stage with a roar that hardly let up, save for lead singer/guitarist Scott Hefte's continuous self-effacement. They sounded like every great anthemic song from the mid-'90s with their pummeling, pulsing guitars and a drummer who was (we swear) on par with Tommy Lee in sheer force. The bits of power punk bands like Minneapolis also-rans Guzzard drove the point home. Hefte's voice is a powerful, pained falsetto reminiscent of Jeremy Enigk—which was in stark contrast to the music behind it, making for an all-around great experience.
We were getting hungry and were forced to miss Target Market, electing not to starve instead, but we did stay for A Night In The Box's second interlude/free jam/whiskey distillery soundtrack/whatever, which made us want to hurry back as fast as possible.
When we returned, our stomachs full of submarine sandwiches and banana malts, One for the Team were just getting started. It's been said about them before (and once by Pat, too), but they sound like a more scattered, thunderous, less touchy-feely version of Death Cab for Cutie. Ian Anderson sings in this band as well and sounds more than a little like Ben Gibbard; but it's not derivative, it seems like it just sort of happened that way. The crowd was starting to get pretty rowdy by this point and we both finally relaxed enough to not feel vaguely creepy about being there. It was starting to be a lot of fun.
Battle Royale did nothing to diminish that feeling; in fact they had us both sort of riveted the entire time. How does this premise for a band possibly work? On paper, this sounds at best like performance art, at worst like something your kid is involved in that you're just too embarrassed to even tell your friends about: “Oh, he...he...ran away with some carnies, nobody knows what became of him.” Though they complained about their sound throughout the set—which actually seemed directed more at their equipment than soundman Erik Stromstad—they were utterly fantastic to watch. They had two keyboards (one of which provided percussion), bass, and a guitar, and the sound exploded off the stage and manifested itself in the crowd. It was disco house mixed with '80s metal riffs and sing-song, rapped vocals by Sam Robertson and Mark Ritsema, who were singing about God-knows-what, but it was immensely entertaining to watch. A conga line (!) started twice during the set and they could have gone on playing like that for days and wouldn't have gotten old.
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| We All Have Hooks for Hands - Photo by Stacy Sandstrom |
During showcases like this there is always one band that comes off like the proverbial ace up the sleeve, and this time that band was We All Have Hooks for Hands. There were—count 'em—nine band members on stage playing electric guitars, an acoustic guitar, keyboards, trumpets, a violin and two drum sets. It looked like the band on The Muppet Show, minus only the loose chickens. And Dr. Teeth, we suppose, too. They incorporated elements of marching band, '70s prog-rock, classic rock and Broken Social Scene, though that last comparison is probably inevitable given the number of people on the stage. It was a spectacle to be sure but the payoff was definitely worth it. The songs were multi-layered and complicated while not being very long, but it all worked near-perfectly. They were one of the highlights of the night, and we both kicked ourselves for having missed them at a show we covered earlier this year.
The wounded, bent, buzzy (no pun intended) Mouthful of Bees were up next and they again caused us to look in wonderment upon them. Mouthful of Bees shouldn't work. Their songs are messy and overly dramatic, but drummer Katelyn Farstad is the glue that holds it all together, pounding on her drum kit with the wild abandon of a four-year-old, but sounding like a seasoned pro at the same time. The songs have big hooks in them courtesy of both Chris Farstad and Mark Ritsema, and the lyrics belie the average age of the whole crew, which is about 18. Most people that age don't contemplate their own mortality or “big” issues, but MOB does and they do it well, without any irony. Any day now, these guys (and girl) are going to be huge.
Ian Anderson appeared on stage to introduce A Night In The Box once again, who he said started out playing for spare change on Nicollet Mall, which was (and still is) fairly amusing. They had the old-timey dress down with fedoras and suits, but the sound didn't match up; it was kind of nice to be surprised like that. They had played a few “interludes” earlier, but that was apparently just warm-up. The sound was kind of like—no, exactly like a straight-ahead rock 'n roll outfit with a banjo that happened to take center stage every so often, fronted by a dirty, bearded white guy with the singing voice of a southern Baptist preacher a la O, Brother Where Art Thou? as interpreted by The Beastie Boys. It was all done with tongue slightly in cheek, but that was all part of the fun.
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| Kate Farstad of Mouthful of Bees - Photo by Stacy Sandstrom |
Hieruspecs/Halloween, Alaskaside-project-but-not-really Ela had a heavier sound, like The Plastic Constellations without the punk leanings. “It feels like Prom in here,” said lead singer Bill Caperton, commenting on the disco balls hanging from the ceiling. He also called everyone up front (it had cleared out somewhat by this time) for a “family picnic,” accurate considering the day. They also had a yelling drunk guy to deal with, and everyone was starting to run out of steam. The place was a ghost town by the end of their set.
The God Damn Doo Wop Band was last spotted dressed for Zombie Prom at Voltage a couple of weeks back, but now they were back in their usual get-ups, the '50s housewife aesthetic. They were very drunk and we both think, as did the band, that they should have been on earlier in the night (“Who's idea was it to put us on second to last?!” one of them commented). It was an entertaining, if uneven set that saw beer being spit on the audience by accident and a push to just get the set over with.
By the time Haley Bonar got going at about 1:00 a.m. (she was scheduled for 11:20 p.m.) there were only about two people at the front of the stage and you could almost count the number of people left. She had grown a year older during the party (her birthday was at midnight) and even she was sleepy. She asked for a birthday drink and then played “Car Wreck,” which we found amusing, given that we were safely in the confines of a comfortable couch. Bill Mike wasn't with her and it was time to go home.
It had been a great, eye-opening experience; one band hung it for good, the crowd was exposed to all different kinds of music and even if you didn't like all of it, there was something for most everyone there. Like the weather in Seattle, if you didn't like it you just had to wait about 20 minutes.
Location Info:
The Varsity Theater
Artist Info: A Night In The Box, Battle Royale, Ela, Haley Bonar, Hello Blue, I, Colossus, Mouthful of Bees, One For The Team, Superdanger, The God Damn Doo Wop Band, We All Have Hooks for Hands
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