Show Review

It seems as if everywhere you turn these days, rock ‘n roll is once again embracing the spirit of performance. As in, not just standing there bouncing up and down playing guitar while wearing some really tight pants, but actually giving the audience a show. Acts on the fringe, like the Flaming Lips and Polyphonic Spree, are pushing the boundaries of the contemporary rock show, offering a more multi-media experience, adding everything from bizarre film footage to cult costumes. And off-the-wall indie-rockers, the Super Furry Animals and Grandaddy are able to push the element of performance even further with their own touches, loosely revolving thematic signatures around modern technology’s role on the human psyche. Of course, all the trimmings are no substitution for playing some really great music, but luckily, neither one of these bands have a problem with that.

The initial pairing of SFA and Grandaddy certainly had unlimited potential. While they each have a unique sound, both bands create beautiful, psychedelic pop, incorporating brilliant melodies and lush soundscapes. Grandaddy’s music, and wavering lyrics touch on many different topics, with greatest influence rising from their noted west coast homebase. Modesto, California apparently gives singer Jason Lytle myriad forms of inspiration, as he sings about all facets of mundane suburban life, from vacant lots to high school football coaches.

Before launching into the band’s new material, Grandaddy opened with “Hewlett’s Daughter,” an upbeat, quirky love song from the band’s 2000 masterpiece, The Sophtware Slump. On record, they sound about as fresh as they come, with blended layers of synthesized sound draped over poppy guitars and steady drum beats. In the live setting, the sound is pulled a bit more, making songs feel more disparate, though still utilizing just enough keyboards to keep it sounding about as space age as possible.

“El Caminos in the West” led off the run of songs from the latest release, Sumday. A brilliantly sunny tune, it quickly got the audience moving and energized for a strong suite of songs, including “The Group That Couldn’t Say,” “Standby” and single “Now It’s On.” All of which run on the disassociated sterility of hi-tech, with glistening melodies and sharp vocal harmonies lightly masking the claustrophobic lyrics. “Lost On Your Merry Way” offered a set highlight when the music accelerated into a cosmic swirl while Lytle sang “It’s hard to keep your head on” over and over again.

Playing on the ironic relationship between the beauty of nature and our man-made preferences, a ceramic cat had the prime spot at centerstage, and at one point, Lytle stopped the show announcing he was looking for “a mouse named Terrance.” Continuing into the set, they repeatedly played films of the nature and technology clash, including scenes of a mountain man and his dog walking from the woods into the city, impending loggers, and of course, plenty of cats. And before the emotional encore of, “He’s Simple, He’s Dumb, He’s the Pilot,” an Ed Gorey-style animated short set the tone.

The Super Furry Animals may have shared the stage, but they’re in a class by themselves. These Welshmen have crafted a sound that borrows heavily from 1970s rock and rollers ranging from Yes to the Grateful Dead, but still project modern sensibilities that goes beyond what most bands are doing. Rather than striving for a good beat or strong texture to ground a song, they place the melodies in the forefront, and never back away from extreme experimentation.

“Slow Life,” the last song on this year’s Phantom Power, started things off. Anything but slow, it boasts a sly, disco romp beat, and was a fine kick that got the crowd moving. Like their stagemates, the Super Furry Animals incorporated short films into the performance, and lead singer Gruff Rhys changed into an array of odd helmets and costumes to enhance the visual elements. During the song “Golden Retriever” the accompanying video even featured an animated dog that ran along to each verse.

Rhys’ voice is crisp and clear, with a touch of a Welsh accent, and the set provided plenty of opportunities to showcase his range, notably “Piccolo Snare” and “Hello Sunshine,” a sweet song about “mingers,” a Welchian insult. On “Juxtaposed With U,” which came complete with a disco-style string sample, Rhys even crooned like a Barry White in the making. Yet the song of the set was the last, a rare B-side called “The Man Don’t Give a Fuck,” which borrowed heavily from Steely Dan’s “Show Biz Kids.” The band built to a frenetic pace, while images of evil dictators flashed across the screen. In fact, the Super Furry Animals are quite a bit like Steely Dan, both sharing a love of glorious instrumentation and esoteric lyrics. Hopefully, the Super Furry Animals will have the same longevity.

Floored by both performances, I spent the rest of the night debating which band gave a better set. My question was answered the next morning when I awoke to the first strains of SFA’s “Piccolo Snare” floating through my brain.