So Yeah, the Show of the Summer was Last Night
Yes, it wasn't exactly last night, but it was last night, last week and unfortunately/fortunately (remember that book?) Psychedelic Horseshit played around 10:30. Fortunately I've been following them around like the Dead this summer, gobbling up each different configuration on a tinny, digital recorder. So far (save the Wright in Detroit that I missed) this night, with the mono-nomed "Michael" from New Zealand on bass, things were simplified and rich. For those new songs, a kowtow bassline is inherent, if only to provide a backbone to whatever Matt Horseshit has up his sleeve. Beach Boys and Billy Idol. Bobby Dylan and Suicide -- even when it's overload, saturated, and repugnant, the song oozes out. And goodness that ooze get's easier to chug each time.
The out-of-towners were equally triumphant granted it was a Monday night in Columbus, OH. Even if Crystal Stilts get slagged for their forced disconnect and aloof posturing, I thought their purpose in life was to bring it freezer-cold and correct. Which, though a bit tiresome at first, built into a blissful experience. Cymbal-less and non-emotive, the Stilts maintained a constant chill that lent the songs their steely melodies.
Maybe that was a in-the-van on-the-road pre-conceived contrast to the Vivian Girls rambunctious set. Despite any venue lending them the benefit of infinite reverb, the walls of Boo-Boo were enough to echo the echo. The trio seemed genuinely psyched to have kids taunting them, circling the front of the stage, and fisting the air. The Vivian's oft-harmonies balance the oft-rhythms that make-up their pretty punk-fumed world. There were tons of "yeah-yeahs," "oh-ohs," and beer swigs to keep them in the boyz club, and even more dreamy choruses to sing along with in the night's whisky humidity.
Headliners are headliners, and Times New Viking are headliners. The kids played over-long, but managed to blister through an EP's worth of next-step new tracks. They've always been of the mind-set of leave tehm wanting more, and still, we wanted more, but we wanted every bent neu-note Phillips could muster. The road has sharpened them to a lethal tip, and in a perfect world they would have played (KBD covers) all night when they run out of material.