The fact that Slice was with me is of no relevance. He can pad his stats all he wants.
So, the last (and only) time I was at Webster Hall for a concert was to catch the New Pornographers during their Challengers tour, and the experience was a great one.
The fact that Slice was with me at NP is again neither here nor there (first time I ever used that phrase... did I use it correctly?).
The NP show was a great all-around experience. Perfect amount of 'train sodas' on the way in, perfect pre-game venue in Hi-Fi (home of the world's greatest juke box) and perfect buzz heading into Webster Hall. So, the stage was set for a very enjoyable concert experience. And NP delivered, playing a high-energy, kickass set list. The crowd was all-in, vibing off the connection between artists and their fans. You could sense a mutual appreciation between them and us.
Walking out of that show, I had nothing but praise for the show and the venue. Maybe my only knock was AC Newman's ill-advised shirt fabric that concealed no physical secrets in front of the harsh stage lights. He may want to do a few push-ups in between writing perfectly crafted pop songs is all I'm saying.
So, admittedly, the bar was set pretty high going into the OR show.
The night began much like the aforementioned... we had some premium brews on the ride in (Sam Adams Octoberfest) and made our way from Penn to HiFi. A slight miscalculation in subway usage set off a sries of unfortunate events, which entailed a good amount of aimless walking, a forced Burger King purchase in order to use the restroom and a cab-driver miscommunication that culminated in a tour of the island of Manhattan. When we arrived at the bar, the effects of some tasty train beers were all but negated.
But we were not defeated. If anything, our mishaps were looked at as a sign of divine intervention, in that both of us were trying to limit our evening's intake. A few pints and choice jukebox selections righted the ship. We headed to Webster Hall in full-concert mode.
When we got there, the second act, Crooked Fingers, was in the midst of their set. After ordering one of only two agreed upon beers, the Slice and I headed to a pocket on the floor, stage left. We settled just behind a blinding spotlight that may or may not have actually been a Lasik surgery laser. After my vision returned, I was instantly enamored by the band's female singer/bassist/rhythm guitarist/violinist. She was blond, talented, approachably hot and the owner of an adorable paunch that was beautifully accentuated by her choice of shirt (take note AC Newman). We dothed her 'Stevie Ray Paunch.' She was great. The band was good. All in all, a great way to get into concert mode.
After their set and and a 30 minute break, Okerrvil River took to the stage.
First off, I'll admit that I'm not a huge OR fan. I've been getting into their catalog over the last few weeks and I really liked what I heard. And many of those same songs that were played that night sounded just like what I heard. But, I just couldn't get into it. The band's stage presence didn't help.
There is no denying that lead singer Will Sheff is very talented. He writes and performs on a level that is enviable. However, he also seems like a bit of a douche. He may be the greatest guy ever, but the douche vibe was present on this night. Was it the hipster-esque, unkempt hair? Possibly. Was it the almost choreographed 'spontaneous' gyrations he went into when he was 'feeling it?' Maybe. But I think the biggest reason I didn't connect was that he conceded that he wasn't into banter and told us that he 'had nothing cool to say.'
I'm ok if a band doesn't want to directly address their audience, but I take issue with someone when they tell me that is what they're going to do.
It's douche-y.
Just play if you want to play. Don't reference anti-banter because doing so is, in fact, banter. Tortured, too-cool-to-be-bothered, banter. And I hate that.
I stayed to hear "Our Life Is Not a Movie or Maybe," because it rocks, and then I walked out. Not as a protest. I was hot, a little tired and saw enough.
Still, I'm glad I went. I love concerts. I love the city. I love well stocked juke boxes.
And I love Stevie Ray Paunch.
