Friday, March 13, 2009

cut copy @ the henry fonda, club nokia

There's a point in your night where things simply stop making sense and, despite your better judgment - was it the lack of sleep you got the night before? The glass of wine with dinner? The phase of the moon? - you find your formally buttoned-up self, well...busting a very white girl move. Don't analyze it - my willingness to to embarrass myself first in public and now in cyber form should provide all the empirical evidence you need. When applied to an otherwise rational existence, Cut Copy's live show is stronger than the logic.

Openers Matt and Kim kicked off the night with untold amounts of geeky joy. While their new album Grand is being heralded (by KCRW anyway) as a maturation, I'm happy to report that other than a few additional chord changes, they're still the same group of crazy kids who seem incapable of believing they're the ones on stage, choosing to deal with it by dancing, shouting, and grinning their way though an infectious set of deceptively simplistic yet catchy punk-pop. Even initial sound issues (was I the only one who felt like Kim's drumming was taking over the free world while Matt's voice was almost lost?) couldn't stop the audience from catching the party spirit.


After a long intermission that included epic light show preparations, Cut Copy took the stage. Revelation: unless the band members start wearing large signs announcing themselves as Cut Copy, there's no way I'd ever recognize them off-stage. Judging by their roles as glam party-starters (an intention announced and reintegrated throughout the night), coupled with the, yes, epic light show, this is probably not exactly what they're after. My apologies guys. This is why I fail at stalking.

But what is it about these otherwise ordinary Aussies that can get a crowd of almost two-thousand on their feet and waving their hands in the air? (Moderately concerned or otherwise?) Clearly, it's due to their kung-fu-esque grasp of the power of repetition, backed by a deadly bed of rainbow synth-pop. At least it's that which somehow manages to move me past my comfort zones, be it the gym session that never ends, or to the irrational belief that I can flail my limbs wildly in public and have it somehow come off as dancing.

This isn't to say that my rational mind was completely abandoned. During show highlight "So Haunted," half of Club Nokia's sound system went out. I, ever the bellwether of rational, turned to my concert companion, a look of what was later described as "pure terror" splashed across my face. For the record, no, I hadn't gone deaf. She heard it too. The only slight blemish on an otherwise perfect set, and proof if I want to continue enjoying said sets I should probably upgrade the quality of my earplugs.

With a record as strong as In Ghost Colours and a show covering the entire album plus highlights off Bright Like Neon Love, including the almost-acoustic "Autobahn Music Box," picking a show highlight becomes a music fanatic's Sophie's Choice. Well at least this is my issue, as in a post-concert haze I find myself trying to auditoryily gorge on an artist's entire catalog all at once, thus reducing any articulate description or commentary, within the first 48 hours or so, to a simple "gagagag!!! music!!!!" But...despite my chronic indecision, the audience (or at least the guy yelling in my ear) clearly didn't share my struggle, calling for their (his) favorite, "Lights and Music," which was finally, riotously delivered as the evening's barn-burning closer. Lights in our eyes and logic on pause, the crowd responded, and for one final moment, logic be damned, life was one big dance party.

mp3: "Hearts on Fire (Midnight Juggernauts remix)" by Cut Copy
mp3: "Yea Yeah" by Matt and Kim

No comments: