Bottletree, June 9, 2010

Last Wednesday, I went up to the Bottletree in Birmingham to see the Pains of Being Pure at Heart, Surfer Blood, and, whether I wanted to or not, Hooray For Earth (they were opening). Despite my general unenthusiasm for an opening act I don't really know (I've been burned before), Hooray For Earth turned out to be pretty good. I recommend giving them at least a listen (then again, it's a big difference going from crowded live room to recording so they might suffer from translation). I regret to say I don't really remember much about them other than a general impression of not terrible. That's all I really have to go on.

The Pains of Being Pure at Heart played next, and they were very good. They opened up with my favorite song, "This Love Is F***ing Right," so, props to them. Very good fuzzed out fast indie pop. You don't have to notice the lyrics if you don't want to, you can just go ahead and bop your head, but if you do choose to listen to the lyrics they're not bad. 80's revival-ish, but in a really good way. Like they got into some shoegazey Vaseline-ish stuff. It's fun.

A few songs before their set ended they announced that Surfer Blood's van had broken down and, consequently, Surfer Blood was not yet there. Therefore, they were going to stall as long as they could. (Sidenote: Because Surfer Blood was not yet there, I missed out on all three bands playing a Lit song. That could have been the show I was at featured on Pitchfork. Thanks a lot crappy van bus).

So TPOBPAH finished their set at about 11:35 and Surfer Blood still isn't there. My friend and I decide we'll wait, oh, until 12, and if they're not here by then we'll go home. 5 min to 12 rather tired and slightly pissed off looking young men entered Bottletree carrying guitar cases. "Hey," one of them said. "Which way to the stage?" So they made it after all.

I'm really glad they did. I like Surfer Blood's recording work, but something about their live show really pushed it over the top. We already knew "Floating Vibes," "Swim," "Catholic Pagans," and "Twin Peaks" were good songs, but live they take on a whole other elements. They benefit from the noise and power of live guitars. And the singer's voice takes on extra emotion, an extra edge. "Swim" drips with real desperation. Yeah, it's sunny fun loud music, but their album cover featuring the shark is well chosen. This is music with teeth in it and if you're not careful it'll eat you up. I got lucky enough (to mix my metaphors) to dance on the edge of the abyss.

There's a cat sitting on my lap, and she's sticking her claws through my shirt to reach my soft (apparently) exposed underbelly. This is... nice?

(Pictured: Pain)

...

My review of Lady Gaga's new music video "Alejandro:"

She's been mainlining H.R. Giger.

I don't feel emotionally prepared to handle the gang-bang.

Both of them, of course, with pretty cool debuts. Only one of them has a good name, though. Sorry, TPOBPAT. Your name is stupid.

I'm going to see The Pains of Being Pure at Heart and Surfer Blood this Wednesday, up at Bottletree in Birmingham. I'm pretty excited. I like both bands, and I would go to see either of them individually, so having them together like that is pretty cool. There's just that one thing about Bottletree... I really don't dress well enough to get in. I'm afraid the hipsters will sniff me out and that'll be the end of it. Oh, well. Nature of the beast.

Finished reading Gene Wolfe's new novel The Sorcerer's House about a week ago. It wasn't his best work, but it was by no means awful. In fact, it was quite a ways away from awful, it was quite good. Kept me enraptured. As with an An Evil Guest I felt a little unsatisfied by how quickly it wrapped up. I felt like there were some questions raised not entirely answered, or perhaps wrapped up a little too nicely. I didn't feel the transcendent joy I felt at the end of The Book of the New Sun, or The Wizard Knight. But the haunted house meets magical realism (or fantasy, or whatever you want to call it) really really worked for me. And Wolfe's style is just so darn interesting. It sucks you in, and you don't notice just how tricky it is.

Then it was June.

Then it happened.