By: Pat O'Brien
It’s hard to explain what happened at this show if you weren’t there. Now, I’m not going to get all pretentious on you and say that I saw God or anything like that. But I did step out of my comfort zone a bit for this show and was rewarded for it. It felt good.
Ike Reilly - Photo from his MySpace (will add photo credit upon request)
Let this be known: I don’t like rockabilly. A handful of people in attendance kept telling me “You’re going to love The Falls,” and I just wasn’t inclined to believe them. But it’s true. I loved The Falls. But they weren’t rockabilly per se. There were elements there, to be sure, but lead singer Matt Walsh commanded the stage like (and fairly resembled) Morrissey in his Smiths heyday, while bassist Chooch, looking like a hoopster from the 70s ABA (or at least Fletch in his basketball get-up), happily pounded on his upright bass. Add to that the fiery guitar riffs and a drummer that doesn’t know when to stop and you have the makings of a local buzz band. After a few songs I was more surprised about how much I actually got into them, than the fact that I actually liked them at all. Look for these guys to be everywhere soon.
The Alarmists were up soon after (they really switched the bands out quick on Wednesday) and what can be said? I’ve talked about these guys so much I don’t know if there is anything left to say. If you have not seen them live, do so immediately. They put on one of the most consistently flawless sets in the city. Jorge Raasch is no longer the “new guy” and has proven himself a formidable ally in the band’s quest to go big. Everyone else was, as always, spot on. ‘Nuff said.
And then there was Ike. Ike Reilly has played the main room the day before Thanksgiving for the past few years now, and I have always avoided it. There was something about Reilly that just didn’t seem special or different enough for me to ever really connect with him. But Wednesday changed all that. Is there anything inherently special about Reilly’s music? Not necessarily. But the more I watched him onstage (and during the four songs he played from the landing on the stairs to start the set) I couldn’t help thinking one thing: he’s Springsteen for a new generation. And pretty sure I’m right. He sings about the working man, struggling to survive, and how even with all that you can have a life worth living, and a life of meaning. You don’t have to be famous or cure a disease, you only have to mean something to someone, anyone else on the planet. Everyone is just as important as he is, because deep down he’s a schlub just like you and me.
There is something about straight ahead rock like this that is vital and immediate. There is no buried meaning or too-clever lyric that ends up reading like an in-joke and turning a large part of the population off. A lot of shows I go to are filled with scenesters too cool and too hip to talk to one another, but this show was filled with friends, some whom I knew, most whom I did not, but for a few hours in there we were all a big family. Nobody argued, there were no fights, everyone came together and laughed and drank and sang and sang some more. There was steam to be blown off. We all had to face our real families in the morning after all.
Location Info:
First Avenue
Artist Info: Ike Reilly, The Alarmists, The Bottlehouse
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