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LiveDC: The Dig / Sean Bones @ DC9

November 20, 2009 by Phelps

all words: Joshua Phelps
all photos: Priscilla de Ledesma from last time

You know when you have that friend in your ear about a band he knows, how impeccable their sets are and how much energy they bring, you’re just destined for disappointment?  I was lamenting the fact as I strolled away from a birthday party and Bar Pilar brews, through the 40-odd degrees, to DC9 for Tuesday opener The Dig.  Sivan, thanks, because I’m not sure these guys will be opening small clubs in 2010.  Whatever expectations were set for entering the pantheon of dirty, downtown NYC rock earlier in the decade, The Dig coolly breeze right up to the gate and kick it down.  Described to me earlier as a band with a “Strokes” lean (yikes, polarizing,) an easily marked difference is The Dig’s innate ability to show a concerted effort to thrill and still be cool as opposed to the latter earning stripes for looking bored.

They continually rattled off hip shaking, earworm banger after another for the sparse 9 o’clock crowd, many of whom were dancing shamelessly from the jump through the pacesetting “Penitentiary.”   Bassist/vocalist Emile Mossari climbed the high notes throughout as on the lush “Carry Me Home” while guitar/vocalist David Baldwin let the lyrical freak flag fly on the eery  “Two Sisters in Love,” carrying the verse and chorus while Mossari harmonized with ethereal keyboards.  Sailing charted rock territory of women, pining for women, partying, and more women never got tiring, you just wish you’d been invited when tambourines were being thrown “into the fire and through the silver screen.”  A tight 4-piece honing their live show all year with buzzed about The XX and veterans The Walkmen, I can’t wonder if they’re pondering the terms of future success singing “when you found me, I was free of the walls that now surround me.”  It’s something they’ll deal with if the LP, due next year, rings out like the live show.

Please forgive me, you, or anyone for that matter dismissing a white Brooklynite who champions authentic reggae riddims whose name doesn’t rhyme with “botisyahu.” You might step back even quicker when you find out the project’s a sea change undertaken by erstwhile indie/punkers Sam Champion guitarist Sean Sullivan, aka Sean Bones, who recently filmed a movie with Norah Jones – IN JAMAICA.   Would these be songs of self-discovery in the vein of Ras Trent?   Luckily, the story is a lot easier to swallow if not follow.  Sullivan and his girl in the summer, dreaming of a land far away from NYC, a swimsuit-only fashion line, and reggae music.  A couple bedroom-produced reggae singles developed some label interest and were ultimately followed by the Rings LP.  Thankfully, Sullivan and crew brought way more Radio Clash than Lonely Island with highly danceable tunes overflowing with head-nod factor.

Opening with the loping rhythm and gospel organs of “Cry, Cry, Cry,” Sullivan gave more by not trying to do too much.   His easygoing voice affects honesty so you believe him when he yearns to “Coco” that she can wear his crown and he’ll never let anyone take her down.   He could have easily corrupted his tribute into mockery by adopting the emotionally wrought stylings and tricky cadences of our reggae heroes but Sullivan strides along comfortably in his own skin.  The 8-song set was filled with variations on his newly adopted genre, including self-described “bump-n-grind” club burner “Dancehall” and the calypso swamp boogie warning of “Visions.”  Closer “Sugar in my Spoon” rode multiple rhythm changes and distorted guitar lines while working what was left of the sparse crowd into an accepting, if not entirely sold, moving mass.  It was a solid effort overall but leaves you wondering what it might have been like in July when Major Lazer resided in the clubs and Bob Marley on the decks.  Even so, they left it all on the stage and still caught a little fire for a cold night in November.

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