Music Seen SA Blog

Texas Traxx this Sunday was a bit of a surprise and a bit of a let down all at once.  I arrived as Black Dove was finishing their set.  I had wanted to see them , and was not disappointed with the little that I did get to see.

SO, intermission, grab a brew and wait for the unheard ofs that were slotted to go on next. Chrome 44 hit the stage like a tornado, full of vibrance and energy and darkness and light. They kept that energy and vibrance up for the entire set.

They had three lights set up around the drum kit and two light boxes for the guitarists and front man to stand on.  The three around the kit were arranged just so they blind the audience and make it impossible to focus on the stage. The lights together looked awesome as only a makeshift light performance can; full of charm and ghetto grandeur.

I know that the whole point of the show is that you see the finished picture, but I couldn’t keep myself from focusing on all the little imperfections.  Watching this band was like finding a new lover, the general rhythm and concept is the same but everything is different.  You see the beauty of your lover’s movements but still notice every bump and imperfection because it is something new, secret and, for the moment, yours alone.

The first thing that I noticed was the lead guitar.  The body of the guitar was worn from use.  It was a simple wooden instrument that looked like it has travelled and been well loved in its travels.  The varnish was scratched and peeling where the guitarist strummed.  He broke a string midway through the set and grabbed his back up guitar.  The difference was obvious.  The backup looked as though it was rarely used and rather neglected.  He sat out about half a song tuning it up so that he could continue playing.  The guitarist (Ben) turned away from the crowd during the intricate guitar parts.  I admit that my opinions are colored by alcohol, but the image I have in my mind is of him dancing with his eyes closed holding his guitar during one of the slower/more melodic songs.

The singer had his own share of onstage catastrophe.  He tried to throw the mic and catch it ( a cool trick when mastered).  He ended up dropping the wireless mic and singing in the back up mic while fixing the wireless.  I give him kudos for being able to sing and fiddle with the mic while maintaining eye contact with the crowd. One of the hardest things for the front man to do is keep a foreign audience involved and entertained.  The singer (Sloane) didn’t just keep the audience engaged; he made it look effortless. He kept the energy level ramped up for the entire show, and didn’t even look tired when the set ended.

And then we have the bassist (Tyler).  His bright orange guitar had chunks of lacquer missing, but it worked for him.  It’s like seeing war scars, you know there is a story there and a part of you really wants to find out what it is. He too made an attempt to keep the energy and the electricity of the show going. He was dancing and jumping and climbing on the light box. He ran from one end of the stage to the other, and made it back in time for the backing vocals. I was tired just watching him.

During all of these shenanigans, the other guitarist (Brent) was dancing, jumping, and running around the stage. The guitar parts were not exceptionally intricate, but they possessed their own kind of charm.

It was obvious that all of the band members were having a good time. They really enjoyed the music that they were playing and the crowd that they were playing for. Two of the band members had to drive back to Houston after the set, but that didn’t keep them from having a blast while they were onstage.

And on top of the fun music and crazy antics and wonderful imperfections, the lead singer decided to do a product toss. He threw a shirt at a table and knocked over all of the cups and beers, right into some poor woman’s lap. Honestly, I think a lap-full of beer is worth a $20 shirt, and she didn’t seem to mind much either.

It seemed that bad aim was just part in parcel of the experience, The drummer threw his sticks a few times, one of which hit a guy square in the back, another one knocked over some drinks. I guess it worked out though, no one seemed very upset about it.

And after all of this wonderful, energizing, raw rock n roll, I’m ready for something “wow”.  I mean, after all, this band wasn’t headlining and they got me from the outskirts of the crowd to the front of the stage.

The rushing feeling of the new and the powerful was lost.  The headlining band was like meeting an old lover for a tryst: comfortable, but well known and uneventful. All of the songs reminded me of something else I’d heard before.  I found myself falling asleep where I stood.  I actually did the unthinkable, the unimaginable, I left the show early, went to the bar next door and had a beer.

Why did I break one of my most basic of rules? The sound was too clean, too polished.  I cannot deny that the band had talent, and they were skilled in their instruments, but they had no passion.  The music was flat- lusterless.  I felt cheated.  I’d heard of this band, and heard good things of this band.

How dare they betray me by being ordinary?

All of the raw, pure, intense, imperfect beauty of the music was lost.  And I remained bereft.