The Loft
February 9, 2011
Better than: the Black Eyed Peas halftime show...
Last night's impressive showing for Chicago's Smith Westerns and UK counterparts Yuck was especially significant considering it was not only a Tuesday, but a night where threats of a repeat of last week's ice and snow storm loomed ominously. With a nuts-to-butts crowd inside the comfy confines of The Loft, however, temperatures were surprisingly toasty.
As much as it has become a cliché that's been poked fun at
mercilessly the last few years, the idea of the blog buzz band has not
gone away.
Yuck, whose sound lies somewhere in the realm of a mid-'90s
Radish being pumped through excessive amounts of fuzz while Phil Spector
looked on approvingly from behind the sound board, sounded exceedingly
more thickened up and appealing live than on record. Their lead singer possessed the vocals of a
young-but-disenchanted Ben Kweller, with the outward appearance of a twentysomething Bob Dylan.
"This is our first time in Dallas," the young Dylan lookalike
sheepishly uttered in the midpoint of their nearly banter-free set. But
odds are it won't be the band's last; had they ended their set before
the two sludgier numbers on the tail end it would have been perhaps the
best seen in town so far this year.
Until, that is, later in the night when Smith Westerns took
the stage. After the first song, Smith Westerns frontman Cullen Omori
commented on the feel of the night: "I can already tell it's going to be a good night," he said. And it
really turned out to be.
But that proved to be just about the only
articulate bit of banter by Omori on the night. And yet that kind of summed up, in
essence, what it is to be such a hyped young blog buzz band -- a
group of young players who write and are able to perform a batch of
material that is seemingly mature beyond their years, yet lack the
comfort or experience onstage to convince anyone that they are as
well-seasoned as they otherwise sound.
That being said, Smith Westerns played a phenomenal set featuring
material from both of their albums, mixing in '60s grooves with garage-y
tones that actually managed to sound larger and more epic than their
recorded counterparts, thanks in large part to their
keyboardist doubling as a third guitar player for much of the set.
One small complaint: Their live vocals were more raw and
slightly punk than the more lush, heavily reverberated Beach Boys-style
fare from their albums.
Still, at this show, Smith Westerns more than proved
they are deserving of the increased level of hype they've been receiving
since their sophomore effort Dye It Blonde was released.
Critic's Notebook
Personal Bias: I only got Smith Western's latest album over the weekend, and
haven't gotten to spend nearly enough time with it prior to the show.
Needless to say, after last night's performance, it will go into heavy
rotation in the coming weeks.
By The Way: Yuck's drummer had the most perfectly groomed afro I think I've ever seen.
Random Note: It's pretty much silly for anyone to attend a show at the
Palladium complex and not stop off at Fuel City on the way home for some
killer late night gas station tacos. This one's kind of a no-brainer.
