Category: Music

The Ark, traditionally a “listening room,” at the request of The Oh Hellos, tried something a bit different: to the right and left of the stage they had marked designated dance floors. Considering the liveliness of the two bands and the youthfulness of the crowd, this was for the best–had they not sanctioned it, it likely still would have occurred. But these “dance floors” containing a couple dozen people were not enough to fundamentally shift the character of The Ark; most patrons remained sitting in the various rows and clusters of chairs.

The opening act was a lively folk group called The Collection. They were good on their own merit, but as an opening, they were particularly well-suited to playing for a band like The Oh Hellos. Their sound had a way of going crazy, with all sorts of instruments chiming in, all sorts of different noises forming a cohesive whole. They had eight members on stage switching between various instruments–from saxophones to keyboards–and great enthusiasm. The audience would clap along during their songs and explode in a chorus of hooting and clapping in between songs. It was evident that some members were not being freshly exposed to this group, but I think many were experiencing them for the first time. Furthermore, unlike The Oh Hellos, they had not played in Ann Arbor before.

Still, when The Oh Hellos came on, it was no question that it was their show. They started off with some of their more recent songs from the album Dear Wormwood, but as the night went on, older hits like “Hello My Old Heart” and “In the Valley” crept in, much to the audience’s delight. Their music oscillated between softly sung melodies and swingin’ stompin’ folk; at times, one would be leaning in, basking in the intimacy of the moment between the singer and herself, and in the next, with a little rise, a little warning, one would find oneself stampeded with the fury of sound, with the dumping of emotion. The whole band had a way of getting in to it–the various string players, when there was no easy way to prance around at the front of the stage, would stomp and jump and shake in the island between the drummers and the singers. This gave off the impression that they weren’t behaving like this as part of the performance, that it wasn’t for our benefit, but because this was their natural response, this was how they played their music and how it made them feel. Even the least mobile musicians, like the drummers, would get as much into it as they could.

In brief interludes between songs, The Oh Hellos would chat a bit, banter here and there, and just be generally funny–yet, something was off. There was clearly some discomfort among them in regards to how different this audience was from previous ones. A handful of times they told the seated audience that if they wished, they could get up and dance, but no one took the bait. They played to a room of primarily sitting people and although it was clear that the audience loved them, the energy was not the same. Even among those standing in the “dance floors,” the energy was lackluster compared to what it might have been if the whole venue was standing and dancing along (they did, at least, manage to sing along). The Ark is not a stage for this kind of livelihood–The Ark, as they love to talk about, offers amazing acoustics, but their venue is designed in a way that encourages passive listening, sitting and maybe clapping, the kind of listening where you get to bask in the glory of the music but not participate yourself. For its usual older audience, this might be acceptable, but when a band like The Oh Hellos comes to town who rely on the audience’s energy and want to have that kind of interaction, The Ark is simply not suited to their performance (even if they’re a folk band), no matter how many “dance floors” they designate.

Run River North is an alternative / indie band from San Fernando Valley, CA.  Its members consist of Alex Hwang (Vocals/Acoustic Guitar), Daniel Chae (Electric Guitar/Violin), Jennifer Rim (Violin), Joseph Chun (Bass), John Chong (Drums), and Sally Kang (Vocals/Keys).  They just release a new album, called Drinking From A Salt Pond.  It is available to pre-order from iTunes here!

The Lighthouse & The Whaler, who will be opening for Run River North, is a band from Cleveland, OH!  Its members are Michael LoPresti, Matthew LoPresti, Mark Porostosky, and Ryan Walker.  Their new album, Mont Royal, is available on Spotify and iTunes / Google Play.

I’ve never seen either of these groups before, but from what I’ve heard, they’re definitely bands to listen to!  They will be playing tomorrow at The Blind Pig.  Doors open at 8pm!

With the thunder cracking and the sky spilling above our heads, we made our 25-minute walk to The Blind Pig. We arrived shortly after the first act, Captwolf, had begun. The audience was what you would expect for a rainy Sunday night. There were about a dozen or so people standing around the stage, but this didn’t hold Captwolf back. They went at it with their three-rappers and one-dj group of self-described “young n***** from the D.” Despite the audience being meager, numerous members of it really got into Captwolf’s short, explosive, and often relatable rapping. I personally enjoyed them, but also found their sound to be just like every other rap group trying to make it. Their song “Fuck Captwolf” was particularly good, and their self-awareness is something they should cling onto.

The next opening act, HXLT, reminded me of one of the reasons I love going to see bands perform: to not only hear the music I’ve heard before, but also to discover new bands to enjoy. One of the best ways to find new music is to see who your favorite bands are performing with–generally, bands try to tour with bands who they think their audience would enjoy. Oftentimes, the opening bands are a pleasant experience, but every once in a while they really knock it out of the park. HXLT belonged in the latter category. They opened with their song “Why,” which with its powerful bass and drums, reverberated through your feet, up, up, up your legs, shot through your bowels, and stung your spine. The song oscillated between that and softer, sing-song-y parts, so when the drums kicked in, it was a jolt to the system. His other songs were similar and gave the impression of being sounds you had never heard before–he managed to produce both good and unique music, a rare feat for an opening act. HXLT himself was often jabbering between sets, commenting on how great this crowd was (to which I can attest) and about how he was “discovered” by Kanye West (who, to no one’s surprise, also loves HXLT’s sound (trust me when I say it sounds exactly like the kind of thing Kanye would love)). His set was a bit long, and during some of the slower songs, the audience seemed to zone out (the audience had been growing steadily during this time to a respectable size), but whenever he played something and just went wild, he got us right back in the zone. He was also the first opening act that I ever saw get an encore and the first time I saw The Blind Pig use their lights properly. Furthermore, he was obviously someone who loved being on stage and loved having an audience to play for–when your an audience member, it’s good to feel loved. It would not surprise me to see HXLT experience a rise in popularity sometime soon–he has the kind of sound that is just waiting to take off.

Like I said, the audience had grown during HXLT’s set and while the show was far from packed, this was a blessing in disguise. The room was filled enough that it did not feel like you were the only ones there or anything, but individuals had enough space that movement was not impeded–in other words, there was room to dance and as the show went on, this would prove to be important.

Briefly, before I go on, let me describe the two kinds of musicians I’ve noted: the “talkers” and the “performers.” To the former category belongs people like HXLT, who talk into the mic between songs and tell stories or jokes or just about how excited they are to be playing. Generally, I prefer this category because they make you feel like you really belong, like there’s this connection between you and them and this concert isn’t just something you’re seeing and hearing, but something you’re feeling, experiencing as part of something greater than yourself. Okay. Maybe that’s a little melodramatic, but it feels good to be appreciated. Now, the latter category, “performers,” is where I’d place Young Fathers. These are groups who know they’re putting on a show, who know that you have come here to witness them. They are more professional, in a way, but also risk looking like musicians who do not care whether or not you exist. Previously, these kinds of musicians have left bad tastes in my mouth–but Young Fathers proved different.

Their set started with the drummer alone, just beating and building, beating and building a wall of sound. Without a word, Young Fathers jumped right into their set. Their songs have an ethereal quality to them and walk the delicate line between beautiful and jamming, political and danceable. They make you feel good about yourself without being feel-good songs. The Young Fathers played with perfect seriousness, they played like we were paying them to play (which we were), yet, somehow, it fit with the nature of their songs. They aren’t rockstars or rappers, they aren’t screaming into microphones or screeching guitar riffs, they are just these dudes playing this weird-yet-wonderful music. And it worked.

While not a direct part of the performance, the audience also played an important role in the night’s success. They were the best audience I’ve seen. They didn’t jam into corners, they didn’t crowd the stage, they didn’t push and shove–they danced. Occasionally, I would turn my head away from the stage and watch the audience just groove and twist for a moment or two. They all moved differently, uniquely, and without a care for who was watching or judging, but the same rhythm moved within them all, the same beat guided each, and while no one was counting the steps, they somehow formed a cohesive whole, like snowflakes in a blizzard. Honestly, they were beautiful to watch and to dance along was transcendent. When the Young Fathers ended their set on the song “Shame,” everyone danced like the world was ending.

We walked home in the drizzling rain and by the time we got back to our dorm, I was shivering, but not from the cold.

This weekend, jazz group Big Fun played a concert of electronic renditions of tunes by the prolific jazz trumpeter, Miles Davis. The group consists of several skilled and colorful musicians, many of whom are faculty at the music school: Mark Kirschenmann on trumpet, Stephen Rush on keyboard, Jeremy Edwards on drums, Jonathan Edwards on guitar, Dan Piccolo on percussion, Tim Flood on bass, and Patrick Booth on saxophone.

This concert took place on two nights and in two venues: the first concert was on March 11th at East Quad’s Keene Theater and the second on March 12th at Encore Records. I went to the first night in Keene Theater, which I thought was the perfect space for the concert: low-lit and intimate like a jazz club. Big Fun played Miles Davis pieces from the 1970s and onwards including “Bitches Brew,” “Right Off,” “Black Satin,” and more. Each piece flowed seamlessly into the next; there was not one moment in the concert when the energy was let down.

Watching this concert was akin to a satisfying workout; it was long, breathless, packed with adrenaline, and most of all, fun. I could tell that the performers were experienced with performing together (and with performing in general) by the way they dug into the music with contagious confidence.

Each musician had a unique playing style that added dimension to the listening experience. Mark Kirschenmann, whose trumpet was made electric with various pedals, cleverly played with and reworked melodies. Stephen Rush’s electric piano and organ gave the music a wild harmonic crunch. Jeremy Edwards’ drum playing was both energized and reliable. Jonathan Edward’s guitar playing and Tim Flood’s bass playing provided smart and stylish counterpoint and foundational motifs. Dan Piccolo’s various percussion instruments offered refreshing splashes of color, and Patrick Booth’s saxophone lines were long and smooth.

During the concert, a live, interactive video created by Simon Alexander-Adams and videographer Theo Schear was projected on the screen. The visuals were successful in reflecting the compactness, intricacy, and diversity in the music.

This was one of the most impressive concerts I have seen all year. While being loyal to Miles Davis’ musical fingerprint, Big Fun was comfortable and confident with experimenting and digging in with their own unique voices. The musicians devoted a huge amount of energy to their performance and gave the audience a convincing and cutting-edge Miles Davis experience.