Live DC: Foals/Tereu Tereu/Roma Condor @ RNR Hotel

April 27, 2008 by John Foster  Send to a Friend

all photos:Chris Chen

On the first night of what should be a somewhat triumphant American tour, Foals are living up to their name in far too many ways. Like a knock-kneed colt trying to steady itself and quickly progress from an awkward gait to a full throttle rush – there will be a few stumbles before they are able to run circles around the competition. Philadelphia’s show is plagued by power supply issues - the rookie mistake of bringing all of your UK equipment to the US without taking into account our different voltage system combined with generally spotty power at most club’s this size when tapped by a big rig system - and the band tries not to show their frustration and disappointment. Storming the shores will have to wait a night. The head of Sub Pop Records has flown across the country to see the boys and is nothing but handshakes and genuine smiles after the show. The lads try to shake it off and move forward.

Stop number two in DC will see many of the same issues (minus record company appearances) undermine what should (and will) be a powerful live show. The fact that the group has made their name on the back of the live act and now it seems to be betraying them shows on the face of guitarist Jimmy Smith as he seems to look towards the rear of the club for some imagined assistance at each technological/hardware mishap. His soaked shirt and hair belie the effort the group is putting into the performance trying valiantly to work through the difficulties. Their rate of success would not be what any of us hoped for in the end.

Due to a late arrival, the set actually starts off with a pretty riveting instrumental workout that serves as an impromptu soundcheck. As it ends, someone in the crowd calls out “happy birthday!” Frontman Yannis Philipppakis steps forward to admit to turning 22 on this beautiful evening; if all of the “x’s” on the hands of the kids assembled didn’t make me feel old than this closes the deal. Knowing this makes me wish the show went better all the more as Foals seem genuine in a way that makes you root for them – especially on a night like this. The comfortable environ of “Mathletics” allows the group to herk and jerk in a reggae style on speed and instantly the stage feels too small for this huge sound. My personal favorite “Cassius” follows and I start to question my choice of writing up the show as opposed to just getting out there and dancing. Move your asses kids!!!! How can you not twitch and twist to the nervous groove laid out before you? Marissa of antidc fame takes the hint and leaves the bar for the front to rhythmically flaunt her Foals love.

Following the song, a huge buzz surges from the stage and I do mean the literal sound – not the potential for greatness that should be evoked after such a sonic blast. Cutting it off finally, they launch “Olympic Airways” only to have a mic bumped and down for the count and before you know it the beleaguered sound/stage guy for the band is front and center. They recover to a colossal surge and lock in, racing to the finish with the clipped vocal shouts in time with the beat. “Balloons” brings a massive bass sound and otherworld jitters into the insanely huge drum-fueled break. It’s getting good – move kids! Keyboardist Ed Congreave smiles behind a comically bad mustache. He knows it’s coming around and the crowd is getting into it. Now they just need to hold it. As on record, they move into “Heavy Water” and bring with it a prolonged pounding finish. I am smashing my beer against the bar in time making a general mess but lost in the moment. I only pause for a second. More people should be moving…

They stick to the “Antidotes” tracklisting with “Two Steps Twice” and Jimmy twitches and rocks back and forth, finding the groove with Yannis building his “ba ba ba baaaa” vocal climb. Things are getting properly intense. “Hummer” and its intertwined bouncing guitars is the perfect compliment. It looks like the early show issues are long behind us. When Yannis introduces “Red Socks Pugie” as “our current favorite of the moment – it’s a love song…” I fully expect the show to break loose into the splendor we have collectively been grasping at all night long. It is within reach.

Slowly (for Foals anyway) inching towards the first giant blast in the song the power is blown to all of the equipment on stage. Seriously. Awkward.

Patched up, they then start the song at the half way mark (with I am sure a “please get through this” feeling) which serves to negate the impact of the entire thing. Mics fall down again. The frustration is evident on the band’s collective faces as they soldier on with a bit of confidence chipped away. Thundering to the end with a tiny chirp of “thank you.” I am worried this will only be Yannis’s birthday and not so “happy.”

He vents with the closing “Electric Bloom” joining in on a second snare pounding frantically as the crowd is finally coming unhinged and moving but it seems to be too late (or too early – in the tour?) Finishing to a wall of white noise the house lights come on for a second and then go off (perfect!) Encore? The drumming exhibition put on by Jack Bevan screams yes. Poor Yannis grabs his guitar and it is out of tune. I watch as he tries to tune up in the middle of the insane rhythmic music-making machine around him – shaking his chopped hair, yet still gigantic and powerful. For me it sums up the entire night.

Things actually started out with some kid next to me at the bar grabbing a trumpet and wandering through the crowd to the stage as he played. Roma Condorr stand ready for action. The trumpet turned out to be a high point as DC has played host to hundreds of bands playing rudimentary whiny-voiced indie rock over the years. Twenty years ago you had to work hard to find a club that wasn’t peddling this stuff. Some of those groups grew into their own style and made it special. Tonight’s not that night but I won’t write them off just yet although when I realized they had an additional percussionist I couldn’t hear and they traded vocalists for no apparent reason and had a song entitled “College Park” (of course you do) you can imagine how hard it was.

Tereu Tereu followed doing a Dis Plan Jr. but without the angles, charm and insane bass work (you know – most of the good stuff) of the original. They did up the ante with some nice trumpet bleating of their own. They played a driving set but the crowd wouldn’t give back and I can’t blame them as the rote lyrics and plain vocals remind me of watching the best band in a very small college town. Not bad but far from the potential for greatness that would be unrealized soon after.

It should be noted that Foals completely lacked pretension and genuinely seemed frustrated by the circumstances and when they were on - it transcended the small surroundings and pulled me into a nervous, jittery joy. Equipment can’t hold them back much longer and some lucky US city is about to be rocked to the ground by this band. It just wasn’t us this time (and I am jealous – I hate you all over again New York!)

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