Earl Sweatshirt: Doris

22 Dec

It’s been a while since Earl Sweatshirt has been on a mic. His wordsmithing and flow is much of what made Odd Future into the sensation that they have become. Now, after a long stint at a Samoan retreat for at-risk teens, he is back, has moved from gut-provoking to insightful and in doing so released an excellent exception to this year of mediocre rap.

This is an album that unabashedly requires and rewards work from the listener. The first few times I heard it, it felt more monotonous than mellifluous to me. On repeated listens though, that monotony reveals itself to be deeper and more oppressive than at first blush. Rap has changed from this style of production, now it struts in suits instead of shuffling around, hands in pockets, in the underground. This album comes at you hard and strong the way rap should.

The deep and dark productions fit the deep and dark lyrics well. There are so many standout moments in the murkiness of the album. Earl absolutely destroys in Burgundy as he goes over how he’s struggling with being a commodity. Hoarse runs off a sick, shifting beat and absolutely dazzling wordplay to submerge and almost suffocate the listener. Chum drops you straight into a litany of family issues and leaves you to learn how to swim in it (It’s probably been twelve years since my father left, left me fatherless/And I just used to say I hate him in dishonest jest/When honestly I miss this nigga, like when I was six/And every time I got the chance to say it I would swallow it).

Additionally, the guest spots do incredible work. Vince Staples steals Hive from Earl and Frank Ocean does great work in the trippy Sunday. Big brother Tyler is unmistakeable in Sasquatch (Man, I suck now, I ain’t still dope (nope)/But Chris and Rihanna’s fuckin’ again so there’s still hope/Oh fuck, I went there, balling bitch, I’m Ben’s hair). My favorite though is the RZA dropping the hook in Molasses, which would fit in a Wu-Tang album even without him.

Doris is real rap. The kind of rap parents worry about and that gives kids who shouldn’t be listening anyway nightmares. Rap for people who want to think and talk. Rap so good that it’s broken. Rap you should listen to.

– @murthynikhil

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Lorde: Pure Heroine

17 Dec

Pure Heroine

“Don’t you think it’s boring how people talk?” begins the opening line of the debut by 16-year-old New Zealand wunderkind Lorde, a.k.a. Ella Yelich-O’Connor. An introspective teenager too frank and frugal for the feigned opulence of today’s youth, Lorde awes through all 37 minutes of Pure Heroine through poignant lyrics that often overshadow her beautiful voice. Throughout the album, almost-poetess Lorde uses many motifs – the cusp of fame often coinciding with the cusp of adulthood, pulsing veins and white teeth, and the overarching theme of aristocracy – but it never gets repetitive. In fact, the repeated themes only highlight the fact that the young singer wrote all the lyrics on the album, giving it an artistic integrity that most artists, let alone teen-aged female pop musicians, fail to achieve. In a world where Miley Cyrus’ twerking makes it to the front page of the Huffington Post, it’s a relief to know that true talent still exists.

Picture courtesy Billboard.com

Picture courtesy Billboard.com

Lorde may be best known for her sparse, chart-topping “Royals”, but album opener “Tennis Court”, the follow-up single, is menacingly good in its own way. In a voice that echoes Adele’s honesty, vulnerable-Lorde talks of impending fame at a young age (“How can I fuck with the fun again when I’m known?”) even as confident-Lorde sneers at her supposed contemporaries (“I’m doing this for the thrill of it, killin’ it”), setting the tone for the main thematic elements of Pure Heroine.

Her cynicism of modern pop culture resurfaces on “Royals”, an almost-gospel gem where she embraces her low-key lifestyle that, sadly, may soon disappear. “We count our dollars on the train to the party,” she says of herself and her suburban friends, before going on to explain, “We didn’t come from money.” Sure, she may never be pop royalty, but that isn’t the kind of royalty she wants anyway. “We don’t care/ We’re driving Cadillacs in our dreams,” says Lorde, in a showcase of the maturity that lets her separate reality from fantasy. In a way, she’s the anti-thesis of Lady Gaga, and that alone puts her on the throne in my book.

“Team”, her third single, is a brilliant critique of club-oriented pop music that cleverly meta-references the same by using a club-ready beat. “I’m kind of over getting told to throw my hands up in the air,” she confesses, conspicuously putting herself in the everyman ‘us’ as opposed to the larger-than-life ‘‘them’.

Of course, being a teenager, famous pop musicians aren’t the only group of people that Lorde fails to fall in with. “White Teeth Teens”, a cleverer cousin of Lana del Rey’s brand of youthful angst, talks about Lorde’s incongruity with the (seemingly) picture-perfect teens around her. “I tried to join but never did/ The way they are, the way they seem is something else, it’s in the blood,” she explains, pulling to attention her own “royal” blood.

“400 Lux” is essentially a carefully-crafted love song about teenage romance in suburbia. “Got a lot to not do/ Let me kill it with you,” asks Lorde, elegant in her lyrical prowess. The almost-spoken-word second verse, reminiscent of Natasha Khan, is a jumble of thoughts and emotions that reveal her worries all too clearly: much like on “Ribs”. There, a non-sequitur lyrical phrase (“The drink you spilled all over me/ ‘Lover’s Spit’ left on repeat”) paints a picture of a kid whose adult-like nonchalance belies her true nature.

In a lot of ways, Lorde is just a teenager – albeit gifted – from a sleepy town at the edge of nowhere, and her charm lies in the way her background consciously or subconsciously permeates through her music. It’s refreshing, to say the least. To me, it also brings to mind to a riotous album in 2006 that made stars out of four young Sheffield lads talking about chatting up girls in clubs and getting turned down. Whoever she does or – more importantly – doesn’t sound like , it’s clear that Lorde is indeed royalty in her own, unadulterated way.

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Xiu Xiu: Fabulous Muscles

16 Dec

Xiu Xiu’s Fabulous Muscles is very accessible for noise pop and very powerful for all that. Painfully intense and brutally personal, this album gets under your skin and worms around within you.

I can’t discuss Fabulous Muscles without talking about “I Luv The Valley OH!”, Jamie Stewart’s tale of family and suicide. The song holds its pretense of straight pop almost throughout, and yet cuts you with its lyrics and delivery. The one break is in the titular scream, which shocks in the truth of its release.

That song is the essence of the entire album, where the excellent synth-pop of Crank Heart or Brian the Vampire appear to cover disturbing tales of broken childhoods and broken people, but instead form a structure that reinforces the destructiveness of his lyrics. This is a hard album to listen to, and intentionally so. Support Our Troops OH! has Stewart graphically describe the killing of a young girl by a US soldier while throwing pure noise at the listener. Nieces Pieces holds the feeling of inevitability that a failing family creates.

That is a large part of what makes this album so strong. The characters of each of the songs are clearly defined, but never with standard words. The striking part of Bunny Gamer is not the desire for someone you can never have, but how easily the rejection is given and taken. Little Panda McElroy is hesitantly, delicately beautiful noise that helps the story of maybe being able to break the ugliness of yourself this time. Clowne Towne hits you hard with its lyrics, but is affectionate in how it tears you down.

This is an album that actually explores what goes into depression rather than dismissing it as sadness. It is about actual pain rather than the ideas around it. It is deeply uncomfortable to listen to and undoubtedly a masterpiece for all that.

– @murthynikhil

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Ghostpoet: Some Say I So I Say Light

9 Dec

This is a distinctly urban sound. It is the music of the road after you leave the club at 3 AM. It’s the music of people and dreams and the moment and life not being all that it could be and the promise that one day it will be. It’s about talking to people and laughing in groups and having fun and being late and feeling cold and wishes. It is the moments of silence where you’re all walking and your arm is around someone and your mind is a million miles away. It’s the feeling of exhaling just so you can see your breath in the yellow streetlight. It’s the feeling of drifting in a strange, only half-there world.

Ghostpoet’s work is a unique gem and should be treasured as such. You should listen to him.


– @murthynikhil

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Deltron 3030: Event 2

8 Dec

It’s been 13 years since Deltron 3030 first took us to their vision of the future with their eponymous album and with Event 2 it is finally time to reenter the world that felt so entrancing then. The rap world has changed in all that time though and what was mind-blowing then is not quite as impressive now. Are the most futuristic rappers of them all now obsolete? Event 2 says not at all.

This is a good album with good music. Del’s flow is as smooth as ever, Dan’s soundscapes are as epic and Kid Koala still has hip-hop down to a science. I greatly enjoyed their concert a while ago and the songs are quite as tight now as they were then. Cuts like Pay The Price, Talent Supercedes and The Return are standout tracks, with Del proving himself a monster time and again. What Is This Loneliness, City Rising From The Ashes and Do You Remember are also very strong and greatly aided by the collaborators. Damon Albarn in particular is excellent. The rest of the music is also great, Melding of the Minds for instance is just very good rock-rap.

The glimpses of the world that you get are very interesting. Del makes throwaway mentions to zombies on crack and ethical debates about eating people in standard blink-and-you-miss-it fashion interspersed with deep pop-culture references. The skits are also imaginative, with Joseph Gordon-Levitt, Amber Tamblyn and David Cross narrations. The Lonely Island also has a rap in there, which while funny seems amateur next to Del’s flow. The story is wildly inconsistent, but that’s fine. It is meant to inspire and not create canon.

Even if not quite as groundbreaking as the first Deltron 3030 album, this is good, imaginative and above all fun rap. I highly recommend it.

– @murthynikhil

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Haim: Days Are Gone

6 Dec

A while ago a friend had asked me for a recommendation and I sold him this album saying that it reminded me very much of Fleetwood Mac. He naturally asked if they have a Stevie Nicks. “They’re three sisters”, I told him, “and they’re all Stevie Nicks.” Convincing though that argument is, it undersells the band quite shamefully. Days Are Gone, their debut album is the most likeable thing that I’ve heard in a long time.

Indie rock and pop have a tendency toward snobbishness. There comes a point where in the quest for cool, they substitute irony for intellectualism. That is not Haim. This album revels in the hits of the past three decades, unashamedly drawing from such Top 40 mainstays as Phil Collins, En Vogue and Shania Twain and they do so excellently. The album is much glossier pop than their live shows, but the gloss of a fine polish and not cheap plastic. This album has had years of work put into it and shows every bit.

Despite the influences and despite the sheen, the album and the band simply overflow with personality. Falling is as much fun to watch as to listen to and the music video for The Wire is most amusing. From soft rock to R&B to synthpop, this band does it all and makes it look effortless.

As long as you like listening to music more than posturing over it, this is an album that you cannot help but enjoy.

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Eminem: The Marshall Mathers LP 2

1 Dec

With one shining exception, this has been the year of mediocre rap album from big name artists. The Marshall Mathers LP 2, despite being Eminem’s best album since The Eminem Show, does nothing to buck this trend.

Let’s start by playing the good guy, writing the review that even Buzzfeed would accept. As ever, Eminem is a lyrical titan. I would cannot think of a single rapper whom I put above Eminem in terms of wordplay. Sometimes scary (So I sneak vengefully and treat your bedroom window/Like I reach my full potential, I peaked), sometimes scatological (In a public stall droppin’ a football/So every time someone walks in the john I get maddened), but always scintillating. Dense, unexpected and humorous, his lines hold up his own standard and there is no bar quite as high.

Some of the music on this album is indisputably incredible. Bad Guy is an excellent self-aware commentary on Em that switches sharply in the middle. So Far… is not only brilliant in all the standard Slim Shady ways, but novel sounding as well. Headlights, Marshall’s version of Dear Mama had me feeling more sympathetic for Slim than I have in a long time. The Monster shows Rihanna to great advantage and while Love Game is far below what you would expect from a K.Dot collaboration, it is still a solid song.

On the other hand though, I skip past half of the songs in the album every time I listen. Rap God, despite being an astounding displaying of Em’s lyrical abilities just gets repetitive very quickly. The words may have changed, but it’s hard not to feel like I’ve heard that song before. I now dislike stadium rap much more than before thanks to Survival, which is actually not too bad, and Berzerk, which is. So Much Better is a very strange take on the history of rap, and let alone a candle, can’t even hold a spill, to I Used To Love H.E.R.. Worst of all, Stronger Than I Was is an atonal, unlistenable mess. Rap has changed from the times when Eminem was relevant, but he really shouldn’t try to change with them.

Also, as always, Slim does not stint on the homophobia (although there is a shout out to Frank Ocean’s excellent Swim Good) and misogyny. If that affects you, then I would advise avoiding this album, but I think it unlikely that you would be a Shady fan in the first place. However, the hate and violence lack the shock value they held over a decade ago. His attacks also feel less incisive. The Gwen Stefani shot for instance (Good luck trying to convince a blonde/That’s like telling Gwen Stefan’ that she sold out/Cause I was tryna leave, No Doubt/In anyone’s mind…) is clever, but is also the first time in years that I thought about Gwen Stefani.

This is in places a great album, and Eminem cements his place as the most technically accomplished rapper in the game and possibly all time with it, but is far from his first three albums and far from enough to return him to relevance.

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Bacardi Weekender 2013, Bengaluru: Day 2

29 Nov

When we last saw the Weekender venue late on Saturday night, the ground was a wet sludge of mud and grass. The rain had started getting irritating, clothes were splattered with filth and everyone was generally miffed that they had to miss some great artists.

The atmosphere in the bus to the venue on Sunday was rather subdued. People kept glancing up at the menacing grey clouds seemingly speeding along with us to the venue. A couple of people behind us were grumbling that this wasn’t a cheap festival; washed out stages won’t get you your money back, whether you saw artists or not. And we were quite inclined to agree with them.

Dance music greeted us upon entry into the venue, but it wasn’t as enticing as Dakta Dub yesterday so we moved on to the Bacardi Arena area. To our pleasant surprise, we found that the Red Bull Tour Bus stage was functional, and protected with a thick tarpaulin roof to boot. The show, it seemed, will go on.

The first artist up was a dreamy post-rock band from Bangalore called Until We Last. More than a little reminiscent of God Is An Astronaut, the band filled the stage and our heads with deep, complex and emotive music. After the rather harrowing experience on Saturday, it felt great to lounge on the grass on a Sunday afternoon, listening to atmospheric, thoughtful music. Perfect!

Until We Last

Until We Last

Now, it’s important to note here that the Bacardi Area and the Red Bull Tour Bus stages faced each other; to get from one to the other, you only had to cross a small stretch of ground. This turned out to be a stroke of logistical genius, we soon realized.

Ten seconds after the beautiful dream of Until We Last faded away, classic rock started pouring out of the speakers at the Bacardi Arena, where The Fender Benders had just begun their set. With true Indian legends like Amyt Dutta and Sanjay Divecha mesmerizing us with their Fender fretwork, it seemed impossible for the jazzy blues jam to get any better – until, of course, Mr. Warren Mendonsa himself stepped on stage. Jayanta Dasgupta’s Clapton-like swagger, Jai Row Kavi’s immaculate drumming, and Mendonsa’s mindblowing solos added to an atmosphere at the Arena that is impossible to put into words.

The Fender Benders: Amyt Dutta

The Fender Benders: Amyt Dutta

In one fell swoop, everyone present felt that the Weekender already paid its dues for a washed-out Saturday, and then some. The most magical moment of the set by far was when the whole ensemble performed the blues standard “Let the Good Times Roll” even as rain clouds rolled in. Whether it was a heaven-sent sign, a spirited directive or just a plain coincidence, it does not matter; that one minute became the Weekender’s Moment to Beat.

Warren Mendonsa

The Fender Benders: Warren Mendonsa

Needless to say, it is not an easy task to follow an act like the Fender Benders. And few bands can live up to the challenge quite like Skrat, a spunky grunge/garage rock band from Chennai. Sriram TT and his boys wowed the crowd from atop the Red Bull Tour Bus with their wild songs and unstoppable energy. Favorites like “Tin Can Man” crazed old fans and created new fans, while newer songs like “Samurai Badass” left everyone in awe of the young band’s raw talent. Props to Skrat for rousing up an enthusiastic and wholly unpretentious crew, too!

Skrat

Skrat

The second Skrat ended their tight, killer set, it was time to run back across the lawns to the Bacardi Arena, where the Baiju Dharmajan Syndicate began their set. The ex-Motherjane guitarist, self-styled as a Carnatic Guitar Maestro, led the audience into a mystical light and sound extravaganza that seemed to end all too quickly. If there was a negative about the act, it was the presence of the Syndicate’s rather douchey singer who tended to overpower Baiju’s soaring, poignant guitar.

Baiju Dharmajan

Baiju Dharmajan Syndicate

Finally, at around 6 pm, we caught our breath at Maria’s Goan Kitchen, located right near the now-hallowed Bacardi Arena and the Tour Bus stages. And not a drop of rain so far! Papon & the East India Company, headed by the talented Papon, were already setting up at the Bacardi Arena, but I rushed to the Other Stage for a promising set by my new favorite singer-songwriter Nischay Parekh. The Calcutta lad shot to fame during the festival A Summer’s Day, helped along by his phenomenal love song, “I Love You Baby, I Love You Doll”. Nischay’s colorful stage presence and beautiful voice was the icing on the cake of the unforgettable three hours so far.

Nischay Parekh

Nischay Parekh

After Nischay’s short and sweet set, I headed back to the Bacardi Arena, where I found the crowd in a sort of frenzy. And for good reason – Papon was singing “Banao”, his famous ode to Ms. Mary Jane! He closed off his set with a spectacular Assamese folk song about the Baisakhi festival, managing to get everyone (and I mean everyone) on their feet. Papon really has it all: grace, humility, stage presence, and a killer voice. I felt almost honored to see such a great artist live!

Papon & the East India Company

Papon & the East India Company

After 5 busy – and completely dry – hours, the crowd seemed to be trying to get rid of the ‘dry’ness in a different sort of way. By the time Australian indie rockers Hey Geronimo took over the Red Bull Tour Bus, only a handful of people managed to stay on their feet. The rest were plopped on the grass, finishing the last drops in their Bacardi buckets, and stayed that way through most of Swarathma’s set too.

Swarathma

Swarathma

Hunger coupled with tiredness from hours of non-stop excitement kept me away for nearly all of Karsh Kale Collective + The NH7 All-Stars but I’d already got my money’s worth. And no, it didn’t rain a single drop on Sunday.

So there you have it. Day 2 certainly filled us with music-induced happiness, but also left us with a sort of wistfulness of what Saturday might’ve been, had the heavens not opened up. Overall, the Weekender was a great, if not grand, success, and I’m certainly going to be back next year.

A look back: Day 1 at the Bacardi Weekender 2013, Bengaluru

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Bacardi Weekender 2013, Bengaluru: Day 1

28 Nov

In any enjoyable event of considerable length, there are always a few moments that shine a bit brighter than others. It’s not always clear why these moments in particular make it into this mental photo album. Maybe it was the confluence of several senses hitting you simultaneously. Maybe your mind just chose the most colorful, the most shocking or the most fun parts. Or maybe it was the way that you were both suspended in a moment that seemed to go on forever even as it ended too quickly.

When I flip through my mental photo album of the Bacardi Weekender 2013, Bengaluru edition, I don’t see the rains that played spoilsport on Saturday. I don’t see people craning to catch a view of Lucky Ali or Manganiyar Seduction betwixt myriad umbrellas. I don’t even see the fuming mob when TessaracT got cancelled.

Okay, maybe I see the last one a bit. (They were pretty angry.)

Anyway, the rather convoluted point that I am trying to make here is that at this year’s Bengaluru edition of the Weekender, the show really did go on. A sizeable chunk of artists, cutting across all genres, were cancelled on Saturday, and people stood drenched to the bone for hours to watch the artists that were lucky enough to perform. But they didn’t seem to care. When we left on Sunday night, there was no doubt that we were indeed leaving the Happiest Music Festival, in spite of every hiccup.

Let’s start from the beginning. Day 1 started off with a bus ride (Red Bull included!) that foretold of the day to come, with rain sprinkling fitfully as we headed to the venue. Once we got in, we marveled at NH7’s kickass aesthetic sense for a few minutes before heading straight to the stages. Unfortunately, the rain followed us there.

NH7 Aesthetics

However, the spirit of the festival-goer is not daunted so easily. We headed to the Breezer Stage, where Dakta Dub was entertaining the fast-filling crowd with their reggae beats. An unfurled Jamaican flag graced the laptop table. Dreadlocked members of their entourage danced with abandonment. A light rain, buoyed by breeze (get it?), tempered the air, and the stage turned electric with magic. Oh, and then Dakta Dub started playing Bob Marley’s “Get Up, Stand Up”. First entry into the photo album!

Dakta Dub

However, the next couple of acts didn’t fare so well, in my opinion. I never have been a big fan of metal, especially mediocre metal, so Bevar Sea at the Bacardi Arena really wasn’t anything to write home about. Singer-songwriter Winit Tikoo was rather forgettable as well. However, his song “GDS” did have a few nice moments from the band – especially the wall-like fuzz of the guitars and the confident bass.

With the Other Stage and Red Bull Tour Bus closed on account of roof-less-ness, we wandered to the Eristoff Wolves Den, the only other open stage, where we found the excellent Big City Harmonics. This guy had it all – the visuals, the lights and oh my, the beats. Definitely a find! Here, too, I added to my photo album: the radial lasers hit the vertical sprinkle of rain to create millions of tiny stars in the daytime. However, I don’t possess nearly enough photography skillz to capture that in a real photo, so that moment shall remain in my mind only.

Passing cursorily by Inner Sanctum (as I said, I’m not a big metal fan), we headed back to the Dewarists Stage for Lucky Ali. A seasoned performer, the man wowed the crowd with his stardom and sheer stage presence, and proceeded to sing everyone into a frenzy.

Lucky Ali

By that time, the good folks at NH7 had made arrangements to temporarily open up the Other Stage, where they skipped past Sulk Station and the F16s (sadly) to Kate Miller-Heidke. Under the makeshift red umbrella that sprouted up like a mushroom in the rain, the Australian singer-songwriter belted out gifted pop while dressed as Alice in Wonderland. It was a great experience!

Kate Miller-Heidke

After a quick bite at Faaso’s, we headed to Eristoff again for Shaa’ir + Func, starring Randolph Correia, Monica Dogra, and Monica Dogra’s midriff. I’ve never been a big fan of the band – I’m guessing it has something to do with my gender and orientation – but I will allow the fact that Monica Dogra has matchless energy and stage presence. Visuals aside, however, their live performance failed to impress me for the same reason as their recorded ones: they don’t have memorable songs.

Shaa’ir + Func

Soon, we left Ms. Dogra gyrating on stage to rush to the Dewarists Stage for the evening’s pièce de résistance (for non-metal fans), Manganiyar Seduction with Roysten Abel. The magic box of lights was already set up, piquing interest with its obvious theatricality. However, the uninitiated were simply left unprepared for the performance to follow. The way your heart flies as a Manganiyar singer lilts notes with his whirling hands; the thumping of your heart along with the big drums; the ecstasy when the rows and columns of the box light up all at once at the end… The moments are too many and too intense to recollect all at once. Needless to say, everyone in the audience was thoroughly seduced by the end.

Manganiyar Seduction

And thus ended Day 1 of the Weekender. The rain was the villain of the day, but thankfully there were quite a few heroes. We left the venue hoping for less rain and more magic on Sunday… and we weren’t disappointed.

Read on: Day 2 at the Bacardi Weekender 2013, Bengaluru

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CHVRCHES at Fox Theater (17/11/2013)

18 Nov

You may recall that I was one of the many people who were very excited about the CHVRCHES album that released earlier this year. I was however disappointed by the album, which made the tickets I had bought earlier to see them live seem a bit foolish. Thankfully, their concert was highly enjoyable, proving that decisions made with limited information are the best kind of decisions.

I have a weakness for intelligent pop groups with a female singer and the CHVRCHES seemed right up my alley. Thoroughly anointed and highly hyped, they made a big splash before their album dropped and their singles were nothing short of glorious. It was just that the rest of their album could not match up to those high points. We all make mistakes and the world is littered with concert tickets of regret. Nevertheless, I didn’t dislike the album and I really liked some of the singles, so despite still feeling a little cheated, I made myself a little less unpresentable and stepped out.

The opening act Basecamp was a rather typical opening act. Their music was acceptable, but the crowd seemed more interested in their conversations than in the band. This was reasonable, as despite Basecamp actually sounding good, their set had nothing stand out. This is the kind of band you want playing at a pub when out with friends, something that sounds good when you want to listen to the music, but otherwise stays out of the way.

The CHVRCHES did not start out well. The beginning few songs were okay, but not quite up to the standard of their album. This culminated in a very sub-par version of “Lies“, by far my favorite of their songs. However, once their initial hiccups were out of the way and they fell into the flow of their music, the concert became quite good. I’m more than willing to forgive a few missteps from a jet-lagged and slightly sick band and the way they powered through the rest of their set made doing so trivial. “Science/Visions” was impossibly good and “The Mother We Share” was very strong.

There was also a very hammed-up “Under The Tide”, but these things happen and it was the only time Martin Doherty got the spotlight. There is a reason that Lauren Mayberry is the front of this band and for most of the show she had it. The band took plenty of time during their set to chat with the crowd, which incidentally was the most enthusiastic crowd I have ever seen. The teenagers at the Marina concert may have had more energy, but these fans made up for that in dedication. The talking was fun, if often inaudible, and honestly the band did need something to stretch out their performance a little. They only have so many songs to perform after all.

Maybe it was the concert setting, or maybe it was the intense light show that went on throughout the concert, but I think that it was just that they are a great live band. This was a highly enjoyable night for me and one that I will definitely repeat when they next come to the area.

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