Oh Belltown… Guys, put on your polished shoes, dark jeans and DKNY button up. Girls, get out that skirt that flirts with wardrobe malfunction from above and below. Both of you, break out the bling and guess what you can share the same perfume, that scent that wafts over 1st Ave from Broad to Blanchard; La/Le Douchebag. But what’s that you say? The rootsy north end of Belltown is making a comeback? Go on…
Yes the Crocodile has certainly lept into the lead as my favorite Belltown venue bringing a fresh take on Belltown’s well-to-do glamour by integrating the dimly lit, polished wood bars with exciting and even off beat musical acts that are slowly carving out a spot for the indie faithful in Belltown’s bastion of the nightly meatmarket.
As hungry as I was and despite the appealing smells emanating from the Croc’s conjoined restaurant, Via Tribunali, alas Trubnali’s bar was full and I wasn’t about to ask for a table for 1, so I headed into the show. The Subjects opened and gave a great show with a sound very similar to Band of Horses. Being out of Brooklyn, their sound contained much less Southern Rock than the aforementioned group, however the crooning high register of their lead singer left an elephant in the room wondering how much influence they had drawn from Ben Bridwell’s style.
The subjects eventually became the predicates and a suitcase piano and several more drums were rolled onto the stage. Considering that White Rabbit’s opening track on their recent followup album It’s Frightening is titled Percussion Gun, this seemed very appropriate. Lead singer Stephen Patterson remained seated at the piano for all but one song during the set, his disposition was initially misleading but as it turned out not indicative of the rest of the show. The band launched into a series of fast paced songs that immediately had the crowd on their toes. Instead of deadening the performance, Patterson actually became counterpoint to the antics that swirled around him. He was frequently joined by other band members that smashed keys while continuing to play their own instruments. The bassist ran off stage just before a critical juncture when he came flying back to the set with a pair of mallets in his hand and joined the two full time drummers in a percussion ensemble that rattled the crowd to the core. The band lived up to it’s reputation for delivering an excitable and thoroughly enjoyable experience. Saving their best known songs for last, they left the crowd breathless, translating their well put together album into a vivacious performance.
During the first prohibition in these United States a vocal minority of moral elitists used fear and misinformation to justify a criminalization of psychoactive substances. Among other drugs, alcohol was banned for the next 13 years. What followed was a true example of the American revolutionary spirit of resistance as a underground counterculture movement was born and manifested itself in demand for (sometimes not so) secret speakeasies where the booze flowed freely and revelry was committed with abandon. Counterculture prevailed and Victorian constrictions gave way to the masses’ base desires. Sadly the resurgence of that same overly vocal minority’s conservatism in the 1970’s saw the re-institution of strict social controls with a “war” against drugs, a raise of the drinking age and a march towards opressing free expressions of vitality, exemplified by the 90’s Teen Dance Ordinance in Seattle which made it next to impossible for minors to gather and celebrate their youth.
All this begs the question: “what the hell does this have to do with the Pica Beats?” Well in the 30’s speakeasies offered booze. Since the prohibition of the 70’s speakeasies in Canada and Europe have afforded pot. In the early 90’s rave culture popularized ecstasy in unlicensed clubs. On a Saturday night I found that the latest iteration of speakeasy does not center or define it’s existence by chemical distribution, but rather the purveyance of revelry itself. Healthy Times Fun Club is a basement loft that happens to host host bands when nobodies looking. $5 admission is not required, but encouraged especially to support touring bands. The venue features a mini- boutique that offers wares from hipster artists from Seattle and Brooklyn. White string-lights are suspended above the crowd and a fake grass carpet makes up what could be called the stage. Off to the side is a lounge area which is equally occupied by mismatched furniture and instruments/equipment from the night’s bands not currently on stage. All are welcome to enjoy the music as well as the big jugs of water and juice sitting next to giant bowls of vegan entrees. Booze is not served so knowing this I had my fill at one of the many hipster watering holes near by. I can’t tell you where it is, but I can with a wink suggest that you visit their myspace.
The Pica Beats gave a thoroughly enjoyable performance, showcasing Seattle’s latest rendition of soft indie rock that despite it’s melancholy melody evokes passionate emotions and without being overly snarky, drives home powerful themes. They played their best known “Poor Old Ra”, which I’m starting to think is about some sort of addiction, but regardless of meaning, sends chills down my spine everytime I hear it.
At the end of the set most of the venue streamed back up the stairs to smoke or grab a quick drink across the street before heading back downstairs to find the lights all but dark and a projector beaming against a sheet hung on the back wall. It didn’t take much more than the sight of a gameboy DS hooked up to an array of electronic instruments to surmis that none other than Truckasauras was up next. As an additional treat, one of their members was seated behind an acoustic drum set and as the set played out, pounded furiously in time with their fuzzy, effect laden melodies that often blurs the lines between electro and hip hop beats with the live drums also adding in some rock flavor. The Truck set seemed far two short and only a few select people were moving much more than tapping their feet by the end, however I see amazing potential for this quirky little underground venue. Next place to check out: the Underground Events Center in Belltown. Yes, that’s their real name…
Last Friday I finally decided to make good on my claim to be relavent in Seattle’s indie scene, and just under three months after they opened I finally made it to the new Crocodile Cafe in Belltown. The Croc is of course the legendary venue graced by 90’s alternative pillars such as Nirvana, REM, Pearl Jam, Alice in Chains and the Beastie Boys, all long before they attained arena rock status. With this in mind I carefully picked through the offerings of underground punk and the intensely buzzed “Church”, the Croc’s Hip-Hop infused take on Sunday nights, yet I decided that I would honor this shrine of the gods of rock by taking part in a different kind of night with a different kind of music: Swedish Disco/Lounge Indie Pop.
Oh yes, the hipster in me could not resist the incredibly smooth yet slightly sardonic croonings of Indie Pop’s darling child, Jens Lekman. Jens was not feeling well on Friday but as he took the stage the sniffly nose and bleary eyes that would have been repulsive on anyone else made him only more endearing. “I’ve been coming down with something the last couple of days, but I don’t cancel shows on a Friday night in Seattle… If I look at you with sad puppy eyes, then please sing for me…” Backing up, Jens was set up by Tig Notaro, LA comedian who was somewhat entertaining and then became very funny as she threw out her script and improvised some cheap shots and witty remarks that the crowd ate right up. Tig did an excellent job of warming up the crowd for Jens, as Jens’ show is just as much about his humorous banter between songs as it is about his groovy discoesque pop. I don’t know if he rehearses his monologues or makes it up on the spot, but either way, from start to finish and encore again he had the crowd by their heartstrings. Sure, we’re a bunch of softees in Seattle, but to see groups of guys and girls alike “ooohing” and “awwwwing” at Jens’ quips, was probably worth the price of admission in itself. I’ll let a couple of great youtube videos tell the rest of the story of this set, but suffice to say that a week after the show, I’m still sipping on the sweet nectar of my memories.
Sleepy Eyes of Death are an experimental blend of classic synths, metal inspired guitar riffs and a blend of electric and acoustic drums. Last Friday night found them headlining Chop Suey where they followed hard rockers Constant Lovers who were preceded by Weekend, a duo consisting of Champagne Champagne’s DJ Gajamagic and Ryann Donnelly of Schoolyard Heroes. Though the lineup was seemingly eclectic, each group brought to the stage its own version of hard pounding beats, from Gajamagic’s turntables, to Constant Lovers’ full band drum ensemble (frontman Joel Cuplin simultaneously played both his guitar and a low tom with a drumstick). With a crystal clear drum set placed front and center on stage, SED was trying to send three messages: this music is all about the beat, we don’t want anything obscuring your view of our lights and smoke, and if aliens were shooting a music video on their spaceship, we would be their band. Indeed as the arpeggiator warmed up and the drum machine started to tick, it was clear the aliens had landed. A major part of SED’s show is the smoke, lights and more smoke. SED’s even credits their effects specialist Brandon as a full member of their band. After filling the stage from top to bottom with thick fog, rays of colored light were cast strategically onto band members and instruments, often highlighting a solo, or emphasizing a chorus. Though some songs do include heavily vocoded vocals, these guys show their Shoegaze influences by either making words purposely unintelligible with effects or drowning them out with heavy synth layers so that they are eventually just woven into the sc-fi fabric of their music. If I were to guess, I’d say the name Sleepy Eyes of Death alludes to that somnolent feeling that draws you in to certain inevitability. As I turned around to see the crowds reaction to the band, most eyes closed, their bodies inevitably swaying to the music.
