Black on Black: Black Kids @ Black Cat

September 30, 2008 by Max  Send to a Friend

We didn’t have photos for this show so I’m adding some old ones from a previous show -ed

Is it possible to like a band in spite of yourself-and in spite of the band itself? A quick list of why I should hate Black Kids: 1) After CMJ last year, the New York Times described them as “a pretty good band with more than its share of blogger-friendly hooks.” I guess that’s as close as the Times gets to saying “meh.” 2) After CMJ, the “hype” surrounding Black Kids was so overwhelming that there was already a backlash. And this was six months before they were even the vaguest of blips on my musical radar. 3) So you name your band “Black Kids.” Edgy, right? Wrong. Especially when Rolling Stone blurbs you under the subhead “Florida indie rock gets a contentious name,” and your first quote is, “We like that “Black Kids” seems subversive.” Ugh—because faux social consciousness is really in short supply. I could say so much more—the fact that their song titles are filled with puns and unnecessary parenthetical statements comes immediately to mind—but I won’t.

Of course, the punch line to all of this is that I really do enjoy their album. I think it’s catchy and fun—good summer music, something I don’t mind blaring from my car windows on one of my infrequent summer drives (or more frequently obscuring traffic noise on my summer bikes). So it was with some mixed feelings that I headed over to the Black Cat on Friday to hear Black Kids.

I’ll get the openers out of the way quickly: Black Kids are touring with the Magic Wands and The Virgins, two thoroughly acceptable indie-rock outfits. I don’t really have that much to say about their music; I’d never heard of either band, and while I enjoyed their sets, I wasn’t struck with the compulsion to buy their CDs. In fact, my main reaction had nothing to do with the music—evidently the members of The Magic Wands met on MySpace? I didn’t think that MySpace was used for anything but teenagers internet stalking each other and sexual predators stalking them. The lead singer from The Virgins looked exactly like a guy I went to high school with—except frozen in time in 2000. When he took a swig of beer in between songs I did a double take; I just assumed he was underage.

By the time we got to the main show, it was about eleven-thirty, and the Cat, while crowded, wasn’t exactly packed. I guess it’s pretty hard to compete with the presidential debate, Mother Nature and Cut Copy (something Reggie Youngblood noted ruefully about halfway through the show).

The show opened strong, with “Look at Me (When I Rock Wichoo)”  and “Hit the Heartbreaks,” which, though they might be unbelievably annoying song titles, are  a lot of fun with the kind of energy that got the somewhat damp crowd moving. But then things slowed considerably—the crowd slowed settled into classic stand-in-one-place-and-sway posture, and things never quite got back to the highs of the opener until the close of the show; “I’m not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend how to Dance with You,” their most popular song, which proved once again that an easily sung chorus involving counting, clapping, or shouting is a sure-fire way to connect with an audience.

I think some of the problem—and this happens to other groups as well, I definitely noticed it the Ting Tings show earlier this summer—comes when a band only has one album to tour on. There really isn’t any question of what is going to be played, or that jolt of excitement that comes when you realize, “Hey, they’re playing [that one song I love that I never hear]!” And unlike when a band plays all the songs on a classic album, like Built to Spill last week, you don’t have the nostalgia factor either. All you have are the ten or so songs on the playlist and then it’s all over. I guess that just doesn’t work for me.

One caveat to all this: as I’ve said, I like the Black Kids’ music, I’m just not so sure I like them. That isn’t the mindset you want if you’re looking to enjoy a show.

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