Yesterday I punked out on seeing yeti-favorite
Elvis Perkins in Dearland due to the torrential sprinkle we had. I just saw them a few weeks ago at South Street Seaport [aka SSSport] and they impressed me more than ever. A couple newer songs has the drummer strapping on a marching band bassdrum and, while it may be a little gimmicky, the actual songs Perkins has written for them are some of his best yet. Standing through a brutally uninspired Human Television set followed by an absurd and obnoxious Dr. Dog didn't seem like a fun idea; Mr. Perkins and the headliners the Walkmen were the casualites.
Speaking of South Street Seaport:
Ted Fucking Leo! How long did he play? Good God! Every show he performs on that pier is as legendary and tall as the Peking Pirate ship in the backdrop. One year I heard he played through a whiteout blizzard, the next a blackout/monsoon; this year: earthquaketornanobaseballstrike. Amazing. He played oldies, goodies, and a handful of n00bies for the kiddies. Openers
DC Snipers came out and repulsed me like few can [for another, see Dr. Dog mentioned above].
Tokyo Police Club were excellent, and if they had more original material might be something I'd love. As they are I only like-like them.
Afterwards I went to
Beirut at the Mercury Lounge, and despite my tepid feelings towards them, I've seen Zach and his Condors
six times now; twice in the past week alone. First was the Spin Live show from which I expected a short and sweet set; instead they played pretty much everything they do. But I like what they do... sorta... which might explain how I've somehow managed to see them so often.
Heartonastick recently ripped into Zach, which is an awesome read. He quotes Ms. Modernage as saying they're the indie
Cobra Starship.
Oh, by the way: guess who was at Beirut's Spin show?
Mr. Cobrastarship. We all totally geeked out around him. I went up to him and said, "Hey! I'm a big fan... not of your band. I dont know about that... but of the movie." He was charmed like a cobra. Gabe related that amazingly the band name and movie birthed independently. Fate, I call that.
Anyway, in his review, Heartonastick lambasted Zach for being "mopey and withdrawn" which I find misleading. Mr. Heartonstick points out that unlike Gogol Bordello, [Zach dug that grave himself by denouncing Gogol's antics], Beirut doesn't go the extra mile to engage the crowd. Thing is, while they may appear to have similar means, their music is quite dissimilar. Beirut -for the most part- isn't festive at all and it's not supposed to be. It's not the raucousness of Golem either. That's great music too, but everyday isn't a festival; everday isn't a celebration -despite what Family Circus may tell you. Most days are ordinary, mundane. And of course Beirut is going to look mopey and trite next to
Google Bodega. There's nothing that says life can't be wonderful outside of a carnavel. I'm sick of fried dough seconds after I find my wallet that much lighter. Beirut does their own thing, which for me is more about steady movement. I feel like I'm perched atop a camel crossing an unfathomable desert.
Read
J's Beirut review. He makes a valid opinion: fantastic stuff [as always], even when I don't concur.
Previous Friday night I saw the
New York Dolls at none other than <drumroll> the South Street Seaport </drumroll>. With <cymbalcrash src=Heartonastick>. He actually interviewed them and is a big fan, so I'll go out of my way to say how much they suck. [They don't really. They reminded me of the Rolling Stones. But cheaper: this show was free and I didn't have to go to Rio de Janeiro. They rocked and were brilliantly entertaining like Dr. Dog wishes it could be. That is, for a bunch of old dudes].
After that I stopped by the Cherry Tavern to ensure I'd have fun at the Mercury later. I did.
Professor Murder were alright but I must admit I was less impressed than by brethren. I loved them at Supreme Trading, but something was missing here.
Girl Talk got me dancing and -as some relayed later- I was having the fun of 8 others. When I read the initial reports in the Brooklyn Vegan comments, I was surprised to learn so many people
didn't have a good time. Whatever. Their loss. My only complaint is that for someone who isn't a DJ -as the T-shirts clearly reminded us- he didn't "play" very long. There's no reason not to have the dance party continue for hours upon hours, until the last vestiges of hipness is wiped clear in a puddled mess of sweat, booze, and tired limbs flailing away like a wedding reception gone wonderfully awry.
The next night I went to Pianos for
Eagle Seagull. The sound exactly like Sunset Rubdown except more ferocious and cacophonous. The layered sounds built and resolved in manner that Krug never let's his music roam. The songwriting on the E-S record isn't up to the same snuff as Krug's but it's pretty transcendent live. Plus the loudness at Pianos makes for one one strong sonic defibrillator.
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Phew. All done with my recaps for now. All in all I think I am going to miss the Seaport's Friday shows tremedously. This friday is the last of the bunch, closing the season out with the
Spinto Band. Plus don't forget the temporary
Spiegeltent is up and running down in that neck of the woods. What better place to see
Man Man [
tix]?
Finally... a 
