Beach House
This band needs a new
Producer - so much better
Live than recorded!
Grizzly Bear
You know you've made it
When bros leave before encores
and merch is pirate!
A few notes on the phenomenon that is Grizzly Bear in 2009 (this can likely apply to Animal Collective and, to a lesser extent, the Dirty Projectors as well):
I wonder if the surreality of watching one's favorite little band skyrocket out of obscurity ever wears off. Last night as a foursome of your average Los Angeles non-hipster 20-somethings got their flirt on (in the form of extremely loud yapping betwixt one another), I wondered what they could possibly have gathered from the experience of witnessing "Colorado" or "Fine For Now." These tracks, constructed for the likes of the Walt Disney Concert Hall, wore their Palladiam garment somewhat awkwardly, for their assertive loveliness was not designed to support/promote apathetic conversation among onlookers. The rush of interest spurred by "While You Wait For The Others" subsided before they could even clear the stage, and I had to bite my tongue so as not to snap at the loud, rude masses as they filed out during the encore's "He Hit Me".
Don't get me wrong. I am overjoyed at the prospect of the world listening to better music as a whole. I love the idea that Ed Droste and co. can continue to create ornate, beautiful, odd music that manifests the inner workings of my wildest imagination. I love that our ticket dollars are sustaining this. That being said, I hope these fair-weather fans derive
something from the experience besides "just another night out on the town." I can't ask that people feel art the same way that I do, but I can hope that they at least recognize that it's art. I hope they received something besides "Two Weeks" and "WYWFTO", because "Lullaby" and "Ready, Able" were strong enough to steal breath away!
As we emerged onto Sunset Blvd, I witnessed a site I never expected: Pirate merchandisers were hawking Veckatimest t-shirts shamelessly. Perhaps the farthest cry from the band's three-eyed cat t-shirt at the merch table, these solid black beefy tees with the band's promo photo stamped onto them screamed irony (not necessarily of the hipster variety). As though we were attending a Bon Jovi or U2 show, everyone was trying to capitalize on the Grizz's success. That being said... I wanted one. My boys have made it, and for all my gripes re: their new-found super stardom, that is a badge I would have worn proudly. Alas, no cash. :)
