Walking into DC9 you would never suspect that at the back of the bar lurking behind a fairly hidden door are stairs leading up to a modest, yet amazing performance space. I for one really like it because it's so intimate. The stage is barely raised so you feel like you're on the same plane as the musicians, the musical experience is more collective, universal, not solitary and cold. Big venues tend to drain the emotion from music. Maybe it's the endless echoing from one side of a huge stadium to another that the soul of the music gets lost in translation. I remember going to a Kings of Leon show at MSG and though I love the band and know their lyrics are more like rustic poetry and unrefined sonnets all of their passion behind the songs that inspired me was swallowed by the massive crowd and callous concrete. Venues like DC9, though give me hope that music will not turn into sounds, devoid of energy, intention, or zeal. A venue like this really makes you feel at home with music, meshing your reality with the musicians', becoming an active participant in the melody. The band I went to see last night embodied one of the many kind of experiences I love having at a show and only certain venues can provide that experience: Overwhelming feeling.
THE ANTLERS.
OMG. I mean, they were so mind-blowing. I went, first being warned by a few people that I would have an emotional break down a good fifty times before their set ended, which terrified and excited me. I had to see this band. Someone played before them, but as usual I had no idea who they were and wasn't in the mood to find out. The Antlers got on stage and I smiled to myself, these guys can't possibly cause any emotional dishevel... wrong. The album they performed, Hospice, is a heart wrenching album full of life, pain, relationships, love, and loss all based around one concept- a girl dying of cancer. It's a beautiful, persistent sadness in their songs that makes them so alluring. How could someone enjoy music so depressing? When it's done well. There are only three of them, Peter Silberman- dreamy vocals, Michael Lerner- comforting percussion, and Darby Cicci- mystical keyboards. They were a trio of delightful disillusionment. A threesome of cheery discombobulation. Triplets of hopeful consumption. It was a strange sensation listening to them, I almost felt guilty I was enjoying this painful music. I was so entranced I forgot where I was a few times. It was astounding. I would definitely go see them again.
Man, I love shows.
The Antlers @ the Black Cat.
No comments:
Post a Comment