UltraJoeBot

I saw Minus The Bear last night and they were really, really good.  Possibly great.  It’s hard to say, because I can’t help being at least a little disappointed when I come hoping to hear 25 songs sounding exactly like they do on the album and instead I get 5 non-robotic guys sort of feeling the energy of the moment and playing songs in a human way.  They definitely rocked though, and had more stage presence than I’ve seen in older bootlegs.

I’m not sure what my reaction is on the new material, but I’m sure it will sink in once I’ve heard it a few times on an upcoming album.  It was also cool that they haven’t ditched all the old songs with quirky titles, like Absinthe Party At The Fly Honey Warehouse.  The line up was completed by the energetic Velvet Teen (whose drummer may or may not have been on performance-enchancing drugs), the supremely out-of-place P.O.S., and the very I-showed-up-at-8-and-missed-them Russian Circles.

In other news, Jeremy Enigk said he like my version of his song again.  I heart him.  I heart him to pieces.

Thanks to everyone who came out to the show last night, and for everyone who didn’t, you’re on my list.  No, not the good list, the bad one.  OK, there are a few exceptions for those of you who had good excuses as to why you couldn’t come, and you will remain on the good list, on the condition that you come to the next show, barring any further good excuses.  Future excuses must be compounded exponentially to equal approximately (excuse)(to the third power), for every show you have missed due to an acceptable excuse, to warrant show missability.  It’s also in direct proportion to how cool you are and what kind of baked goods you can offer as restitution, so it’s really too complex an equasion to put on here.

Moving on … I’ve been updating my band’s myspace dealy a bit, and I’m going to start putting up our setlists, accompanied by little reactions to our performance, assuming we will continue to have shows.  If you’re not our myspace friend yet, go befriend us immediately, or else I will quote another long and complicated quadratic formula explaining how you must make it up to me.  Man, I’m needy(to the third power)(times 9).

I saw Ted Leo and the Pharmacists at the Knitting Factory last night, and it was an incredible show (many thanks to Adam for the charitable donation of tickets). The openers, Duke Spirit and Les Aus, were both fine, but neither was a band I would have the attention span for if they were headlining and had a longer set. Les Aus in particular sounded fresh and consise when playing 90-second songs, but the energy faded when they wandered into shambling noise interludes and free-time drum solos.

The Pharmacists did not disappoint. Poor Ted had a hacking cough and was struggling with the combination of a gravely voice and a distorting microphone, but he seemed determined to have a good show anyway, and his energy was inspiring. I won’t pretend to know all of the 17 songs they played, but they could have exhausted their entire catalogue and gone on to stumble through the greatest hits of Belle And Sebastian and I would have gone home happy. Happyish.

The band was definitely tight, the banter was clever, and the stage antics were enjoyable, especially when Ted bloodied himself by smashing a microphone repeatedly into his own forehead. But what really sticks in my mind is the songs themselves, and the energy they were able to inject into their performance. Ted is a brilliant songwriter, and to witness songs like Biomusicology and Counting Down The Hours in a live setting, especially one as small and intimate as the Knitting Factory, was incredible.

When he came out to play the fourth encore solo, with an increasingly raspy voice and blood still fresh on his forehead, you could sense that he really didn’t want the tour to end. The crowd was somewhat tame in their politeness, but always attentive, and practically oozing love and appreciation for their idol.

I will definitely catch these guys the next time they’re in town. Additional thanks to Amanda, who introduced me to the Pharmacists, and who I couldn’t even score a ticket for. Next time you will be there if I have to sneak you in under a giant sombrero.