Brightest Young Things

all photos: Milica Wren

What am I doing here? It has been the kind of day where not only does everything go wrong, but it does so with the utmost heartache. Letting the uncharacteristically cool July wind lick at my cheeks and the hazy giant moon light my path, I set off for downtown with a numbness forged from hours of intimate conversation gone awry. My hand eventually reaches for the “in” door as my eyes note the closing of the main room. Confirming the movement of tonight’s show to the backroom, I get the sense that the day is behind me and the night’s version of surprises holds more promise – a different kind of intimacy.

The room opens up to reveal a full crowd. Don’t they know it is a Monday night in the heart of the summer? Why is everyone so happy to be together and more importantly, why are they so happy to see me? Backstage means Lauren, looking like a pretty sun-kissed little bird at the door and Dennis perfectly handling the sound, as he surprises me with delightful turns of The Kinks and Moody Blues between sets. Sara from Hometapes is working the merch table as she personally escorts Megafaun around the country and Michael from The Caribbean saddles up to support his labelmates. It quickly gives the effect of a wonderful backyard party with the perfect mix of old and new friends, kids in hipster regalia and band tees but also girls in their softball jerseys and aging punks with ska frohawks. It is as if DC felt the need to remind me how much I can love a show in this city.

A packed room and my socializing means that I unfortunately take Vandaveer for granted, having seen him so many times before. With Rose alongside, he does an admirable job of setting the stage and the crowd shows their appreciation.

The brother led trio of Megafaun is quickly on stage. Casting aside any presumptions I had from their poorly chosen name, they grab the room’s attention in a matter of seconds. Something brewing here methinks. Healthy beards all around, the boys take on a CSNY crash course up the mountain, but add in a rhythmic thump and determination that strikes me as beautiful. Their mix of seriousness and unabashed enjoyment of being on stage is infectious.

The duo of Brad and Phil Cook flank the stage and rock back and forth, seeming to force every last note from their instruments and unleash choruses that are sure to be sung all around the country shortly, like a drunken sea shanty. They add such force to their folk attack that I am struck by their impact and the overall effect is louder than many rock bands that have taken the same stage. They are entertaining as hell as they go for the huge payoff, bashing about and surging to harmonies only to have all three rush to the edge of the stage and forsake their mics to sing a cappella, in an almost aggressive lunge to the audience, which are now putty in their bear-like hands.

The amount of banter is heavy, but engaging, and calls from the crowd to “take their clothes off” are met with smiles. The band then offers an opportunity for someone to join them and play harmonica for a song. With a little coaxing, two boys amble up and the pleasing decision is made to split up the duties. Momentum is lost and when the song ultimately ends up being a jammy mess - there is little relief. It holds the crowd, but loses me. Two songs later they kick away any vague feeling of wading in bullshit with an ace bit of strum and harmony that is ready made for a car commercial - and I say that as a good thing. This is a band you will be hearing from. It’s undeniable and the crowd seems to know it. Ending in a pots and pans percussion workout with found sound, there is enough for the record nerds and mainstream to embrace and embrace it they will. Count on it.

Phil Moore and the fuller ensemble going as Bowerbirds settle in, with Phil declaring that this may be the first and last show he performs seated, as this is the tour kickoff on the eve of their new release “Upper Air.” The fine-tuning is apparent in the opening “House Of Diamonds” but it still comes across as shy and gorgeous rather than any awkward moments. It is the equivalent of pushing their tangled hair away to reveal seductive eyes batting in your direction. The crowd tightens and smiles as they nod along. “Crooked Lust” quickly showcases all that is magical about the band with Moore’s incandescent picking on display and his phrasing warm as it gives way to fuller harmonies, courtesy of Brad from Megafaun on upright bass.

At the first “deet deet” from Beth Tacular, the crowd jitters, eager for “In Our Talons” and it’s jazzy interplay that always reminds me of Shelleyan Orphan. The warmth and intimacy begin to envelope me like a blanket of trust in the night. “The Ticonderoga” offers to “snag you on my sands” as it broods at the ocean’s edge. The accordion of Tacular continues the nautical feel as it transforms into the insistent drums of “Beneath Your Tree” before she takes her turn at the mic in a confident and clear moment, not unlike a folk Kirsty MacColl, and it is simply magic as Moore comes in under her. Stripped naked momentarily, the pair are “soon lost, and we are terrified” before surging ahead thanks to some plucked noise from Cook’s upright.

“My Oldest Memory” allows me a moment to watch Moore - as the entire right side of his face pokes and pulls for the high notes and I soon realize that I am not the only one transfixed on his face. In fact, the entire room is watching intently. We stand together. How could we not?

Following the small piano touches added to “Silver Clouds,” I can’t deny that the performance of such hushed songs has made me infinitely happier than when I walked through the door and the shared experience means everything. “Northern Lights” follows appropriately, even though I still find it an odd choice for a single, though they are hardly a singles band. The spell is somewhat broken by a narcotic, dream-like performance of “Olive Hearts,” as if the humid room had overtaken them. “Chimes” grasps and claws at us with it’s rock drums and strums but doesn’t get all the way back and I can feel the party coming to a close.

“Teeth” sways back and forth and “Dark Horse” clatters. I have often pointed to “Dark Horse” as everything I love about the band and here it delivers familiar warmth and embrace, rather than the expected rush – and maybe that’s just what I need. It is the night before saying goodbye to a dear friend that you haven’t seen for a year and won’t see for another. There is comfort – in comfort.

They quickly return for an encore of “Hooves,” but I can’t shake the feeling that it was already time to leave and many in the crowd seem to share the sentiment. I am happy to listen for a little longer but neither of us will gain anything other than the simple company from the moments.

Then they pull me close with the incredible “Bur Oak” and I am ashamed to have felt that way.

We can always use one more sweet, sweet kiss on the cheek and the chance to fall into one another, if only for a few minutes.

Previously in Live DC:

• 2/22: Live DC: The Dead Milkmen @ U Street Music Hall
• 2/22: $40 Fashion Challenge Is Back: Make Me Over
• 2/21: LiveDC: ZOLA JESUS @ U Street Music Hall
• 2/21: PHOTOS: Emilie Autumn @ Recher Theatre
• 2/21: LiveDC: Burlesqu-a-pades @ Birchmere
• 2/18: PHOTOS: Slow Club @ DC9
• 2/18: PHOTOS: MIXTAPE @ TOWN
• 2/16: LiveDC: This Will Destroy You @ Red Palace
• 2/15: LiveDC: Jack's Mannequin/ Jukebox The Ghost/ Allen Stone @ 930 Club
• 2/15: LiveDC: All Things Gold w/ Summer Camp/ Gigamesh/ Ghost Beach