Brightest Young Things

Or, the Long Road Home

all words: William Alberque
assorted photos: Rachel Eisley, from last time

The revival of H Street NE has entailed an incredible transformation. I certainly didn’t ever think anything like this would happen – such a remote area of a venerable neighborhood roaring back to life with excitement and style, and, above all, momentum. The downside, of course, is that bands find it perfectly acceptable to play a series of wonderful venues that are remote, hard to get to, and, crucially, impossible to get back from once the bands are done.

Such was the case last Thursday, when A Sunny Day in Glasgow played the hometown leg of their nationwide tour. If you haven’t heard of ASDIG, it’s about time you did. They are, both in name, as well as style, kissing cousins to the Pains of Being Pure at Heart – and deserving of every bit of the same type of praise. Sure, there’s no ASDIG remix by St. Etienne (as there is of POBPAH’s Higher than the Stars), but, at this rate, I’m sure there will be. ASDIG’s wit and invention, and energy live is further confirmation that the only gap between the bands is their press. Indeed, I would put ASDIG a nose ahead of POBPAH on stage – they were that good.

The show was at the Red and the Black – a charming, if tiny, venue on the H St. NE corridor. The upstairs reminds me of a slightly nicer Velvet Lounge (though without the lovely Ashley May to keep us pickled). As with the Velvet Lounge, the bands joked about having to load in upstairs, but the reward is an intimate space with which to build rapport with the crowd. It’s an odd venue for A Sunny Day in Glasgow, whom I’d assume would be playing the Black Cat main stage – but I wasn’t going to complain. BYT hooked me up, I was excited, what could go wrong?

Well, we’ll start at the beginning, shall we? The two openers were a bit baffling. First up was the Torches, a local Washington, DC, band (well, Arlington), built from the remains of the Cassettes. They took the stage with a raft-load of personnel and enough silly, winning energy to sway an ostensibly shoegaze/twee crowd with their peculiar blend of swampy, Tom Waits-inflected blues, southern harmonies, and indie rock. There were five of them (or six - this would be an issue later, as the crowd increasingly was taken up by band members rather than audience). There was a drummer/singer/banjo player (complete with a white cowboy hat and an ostrich feather), and two guys and two beautiful, stylish young ladies (one with lush, curly ginger hair, the other with a fetching sequined wool cap), all trading off on harmonies, oboe, guitar, triangle, and other instrumental duties. They got the crowd moving, dancing and laughing along with the banter, with gravelly vocals and strange lyrics – I never did figure out what Dr. P was about. The singer kept mentioning the literary references for the songs, but I couldn’t really follow any of them. Towards the end, they did a driving, melodic track that sounded inspired by the Inspiral Carpet’s “I Want You,” that was quite tasty. Other than that, the charm and wit of the ensemble was entertaining, but still a confusing opening act.

The second opener was the Young Republic. They’re from Nashville, Tennessee, as the singer informed us up front (as if this might influence whether stayed, or how we’d react?). It’s another crowd scene on stage, with two guitars, a bass, drums, violin, singer, and a keyboardist/viola player. Their tuning up was pretty off-putting. The bassist was wearing one of those porkpie hats and a predilection for bobbing his head forward and backwards that immediately put me in mind of the Dave Matthews Band. Snatches of his warm-up reinforced this. They warmed up with James Brown's “Cold Sweat,” and, for a moment, I could feel the sticky floor and smell the barf and despair and daterape on the breeze that instantly reminded me of a frat house. To be fair, their set wasn’t all like that, but they had an alarming tendency to the “tradition of quality”-style playing of the 1980s-era SNL band. Grog and Tankard headliner, sure. And, if I were in Tennessee, I’m sure I would have been thrilled that they were playing such comparatively progressive indie rock with energy, verve, and skill. But opening for a Slumberland rising star? As I said, baffling.

In addition, the sound troubles meant that I spent the first three songs or so wincing in pain as they couldn’t figure out how to get all the mics and the violin and the viola working at the same time without filling the room with howling feedback. Seriously, people, soundchecks, please? The last time I saw a show with this many sound issues, Ian Brown got arrested. I don’t think it was the venue, though. There were just too many people on such a tiny stage! And, as I said, each member seemed to be incredibly talented at what they did. It just wasn’t my thing, and it didn’t seem like the right genre for the main act. Still, they got people dancing, and played a Beatles cover I didn’t recognize, and some annoying idiot kept yelling, “play Jingle Bell Rock,” and the band did that thing where they all chase one descending line, and they did some terrible spoken-word part, and I wished it was all over sooner than it was.

^{photo courtesy of pitchfork}

And then A Sunny Day in Glasgow. Another five people come onto the stage, and at this point, I was less than enthusiastic, I can tell you. It’s a Thursday, I’ve been at this since 6 am, I’m really not enjoying myself. I’m tired and cranky, the crowd’s been annoying, the beer selection is abysmal (hoppy, hoppy, hoppier, extremely hoppy, heavy, or bland?), the bands have been inexplicable, and the girls I offered to help with their coats acted as though I’d asked them to touch me inappropriately. Fucking H Street, right? At least the bartender’s a nice guy, the redhead from Torches is sweet, and the petite flapper in TYR is cute. I’ll live.

But then ASDIG made their noise. Two female vocalists weaving beautiful vocal melodies, with dissonant guitar, drums, and driving bass – then everything drops out but the vocals and the song comes crashing back in. This is just what I wanted. Beautiful, unhinged, and gorgeous. A harder edge than POBPAH (though, this is no A Place to Bury Strangers), but infused with real beauty – somewhere between Bleach and Perfume Tree, to mention two bands you probably don’t know. Anyway. On to the second song, and the vocals keep getting stronger – though the crowd-hand clapping participation just doesn’t take off. The room’s crowded, but not nearly as packed as it should be, and they launch into the third song. Icy keyboards, followed by thunderous tom-tom drums, like a shoegaze version of bow wow wow. I’m really happy now. The other vocalist floats a line over the top of the racket, with amazing noises, handholding going on on-stage as they sing the refrain together – love and rockets?

They continue with a spare noise intro loop, walloping into a song that reminds me of Arcade Fire’s Rebellion (Lies), and the redhead and the flapper are dancing it up now. I think I actually smile at this point. The fifth song is a birthday song for their diminutive guitarist, and he seems abashed, though not too much to play a chiming, charming melody with a nice tempo, shifting fully into Bleach circa-Hate Song. Magnificent, strong female vocals from the taller girl, weaker, more ethereal from the other – and the occasional male voice thrown into the mix. It’s a great set of contrasts that works well, complementing each other and transforming this from your average shoegaze band to something quite special. The next song sounded like a cover – maybe the Breeders? – but totally brilliant. they screw up the ending, but it doesn’t matter.

The next song starts with almost a gentle Sigur Ros intro, then bells and drums and keys, and harmony, and then noise. They followed that up with something a bit weaker – reminiscent of Everything’s Gone Rain from Lorelei – and finally the last song of the set. Another driving, beautiful, american indie-shoegaze song with a strong, noisy ending that whips the crowd into a frenzy. They keep the applause going long enough to bring the band back for an encore, thankfully. The final song is an assault, like a more beautiful version of “Feed Me with Your Kiss,” driving feedback into the gaps between the gorgeous vocal melodies, and the bass and drums throwing the audience into a mad, impromptu dance party. They leave the stage, and all I could think was, with the right marketing, they’re going to be huge. They were out of their singles, and, being exhausted, I stalked out.

Still, I had to get home, and finding a cab at 1 am on H Street NE is like finding – well, assume I came up with something clever and witty, because I can’t. It was fucking freezing, windy, and there were no cabs, and the sidewalks were being repaved, so I had to walk in the street. I finally got the X1, and an hour later, I was home.

Previously in Live DC:

• 2/9: LiveDC: Theophilus London @ 930 Club
• 2/9: Best Weekend Bets
• 2/8: LiveDC: Kathleen Edwards @ 930 Club
• 2/8: LiveDC: Thurston Moore/ Kurt Vile @ Black Cat
• 2/8: LiveDC: Thurston Moore/ Kurt Vile @ Black Cat
• 2/7: LiveDC: Demetri Martin @ Warner Theatre
• 2/7: LiveDC: Augustana/ Graffiti6 @ 930 Club
• 2/6: LiveDC: All Things Go Presents: Reptar/ Casual Curious/ Fort Lean @ Gibson Guitar Showroom
• 2/6: LiveDC: TYCHO/ Beacon @ RNR Hotel
• 2/6: LiveDC: The Kills / Jeff The Brotherhood @ 9:30 Club