Lookit Them, They Formed A Band
KFNY Invasion: The Chalets/Art Brut 47/Art Brut//Knitting Factory//5/18/06
It's funny that The Zambonis mistakenly posting their 5/19 gig as the local one worked out for everyone who planned on going in May, and for me what with Southpaw on the 17th and this on the 18th. I know I said that I'd see Art Brut again, but the tix were $16. A lot of money (for me) for a band like this that I've already seen, but my rationale was, if I don't go then where's the continuity. Ya know? Not only that, it was one of those 2-floor gigs with DJs and 6 bands, and I can't stand those. I bought the ticket 2 weeks before the show, and I was thinking that it served me right if it sold out while I was checking TW and procrastinating about going down there and if it did sell out beforehand, well, I didn't want to go anyway. It turned out that 3 bands abd 1 DJ were in the Main Space and more DJs and 1 band downstairs. And Art Brut going on at midnite. What the fuck was I thinking?
Sitting on the floor with my back to the stage in order to have some reading light, to my right was a chick dozing on and off. In front of her, the Siren Festival's target audience sat in a circle, playing with their digital cameras. Leaning against a column was a couple making out all nite. In front of me to my left sat a guy staring into space. How I knew the DJ played something good: a loud "Oh my God!" went up from the circle. Or maybe they just found out that someone liked them-liked them instead of just liked them. Although I'd already read everything I needed to in the Voice, it was either that or look at the targets in the Main Space.
I was thinking that The Chalets would be like all the other Britpop bands who get their names by putting "the" in front of random words and thinking that that works, like The Cribs or The Concretes. One of their 2 girls on keyboards (who looks like Winnie Cooper from the Wonder Years) was dressed in a Dorothy-from-the Wizard of Oz-style dress and red sequin pumps so I was expecting them to be schticky, but they weren't. They're also not technically Britpop because they're from Dublin and I'm standing there thru their indie pop thinking, You sure you're from Dublin? Winnie informs us that when they play in Ireland, girls throw their underwear at the guitar player. Uh, sure. Hold on a minute. Don't want you to feel too homesick.
The thing about Art Brut's "franchises" (that I know of) is this: They feel bad about taking such an awesome name and have fan bands all over the world reinterpreting Art Brut music. So I assumed Art Brut 47 was one of those. Kinda interesting, kinda unnecessary. There was a case onstage and on the topside is flourescent yellow duct tape bearing this cryptic message: Please deliver to Knitting Factory New York City USA. It was kinda interesting (to me at least) and kinda funny. Art Brut 47 is a trio and they greeted us with, "Hello, you lot!" Which doesn't sound nearly as fun or full of promise in American as it does in English. They explained that on the previous nite they did do all Art Brut songs and when Art Brut came onstage, they kind of stole their thunder. So they're doing original songs. The first one sounded familiar, though I couldn't place it. A few people were singing along. I felt lost. As the set wore on it becomes obvious that some giant joke is going on and I don't get it. Are they covering Arctic Donkeys songs? Is this the joke? I look around. A guy by the wall looks as bored as I feel. All the songs sound the same and there's nothing distinguishing one from the other. One of the guys in the band has a moustache and I'm thinking, what is this, We Are Scientists? (Now there's actually a band called We Are Wolves and I'm like, Ok, well now you're not even trying.) I'll have to wait to read about this in the Voice to find out, in Sounds of the City or something. I don't like this feeling. That's it. I am so out of it. I should just give up. The drummer takes a pic of the audience, which sets off a chorus of flashes from the audience. And everyone has these big digital Nikons with professional-looking attachments. After the set the DJ announces, "Art Brut 47! Also known as--" And I'm thinking, ok, here it comes. "--Art Brut 47!" He then tells us to go downstairs for another band during the set change, but I don't and I doubt anyone else did. Well, maybe the people in the back of the room. By this point I'm so out of it that when someone from Art Brut 47 picks up the case with the cryptic delivery slip on it, a piece of yellow tape on the front that says We Are S-- barely registers before the guy disappears with it. Well, that would explain the other piece of tape next to the delivery message that said W.A.S.
So was the LES crowd the one who gaped adoringly while the Bklyn crowd was the one who got it and showed the LES how it's done? Guess we'll never know, because this time around everyone went crazy and the Knit was way too small for all the surging/dancing/pushing of the soldout crowd. I almost wish that I didn't go to this one so I could just have the SP show as a sweet, magical memory about this band to take away because this way I could think that every show was like that. One drunk guy kept yelling, "Eddiiiiiiiiie! Edddieeeeeee!" and then shoved his way up front. After being pushed back, he charges up front again and stage dives. Eddie stage dived during Modern Art, ensuring more shoving, and the crowd had to pretty much pick him up by the belt loops and hoist him back onstage. "You saw my bum! I feel sorry for you!" he apologized, but the drunken fanboy didn't mind: "I touched your bum! Eddie! I touched your bum!" I had to move back and at the end of the set I had chest pains. They ended with saluting all the bands on the bill, chanting "Chalets! Top Of The Pops! We Are Scientists! Top Of The Pops!" Holy shit. And as soon as the lights went on, everyone started yelling at Drunken Fanboy.
I never get chest pains after crazy shows like that. Walking back to the train, I debate going to the hospital, but I don't. I hope the Uptown 1 is running because I don't have the strength/time to go to Chambers and wait there. And the crowd was just so much better at SP to the point that it was like seeing an entirely different band this time around. Besides, the doctors would probably just say Don't go to see Art Brut at the Siren Festival.
Done.
It's funny that The Zambonis mistakenly posting their 5/19 gig as the local one worked out for everyone who planned on going in May, and for me what with Southpaw on the 17th and this on the 18th. I know I said that I'd see Art Brut again, but the tix were $16. A lot of money (for me) for a band like this that I've already seen, but my rationale was, if I don't go then where's the continuity. Ya know? Not only that, it was one of those 2-floor gigs with DJs and 6 bands, and I can't stand those. I bought the ticket 2 weeks before the show, and I was thinking that it served me right if it sold out while I was checking TW and procrastinating about going down there and if it did sell out beforehand, well, I didn't want to go anyway. It turned out that 3 bands abd 1 DJ were in the Main Space and more DJs and 1 band downstairs. And Art Brut going on at midnite. What the fuck was I thinking?
Sitting on the floor with my back to the stage in order to have some reading light, to my right was a chick dozing on and off. In front of her, the Siren Festival's target audience sat in a circle, playing with their digital cameras. Leaning against a column was a couple making out all nite. In front of me to my left sat a guy staring into space. How I knew the DJ played something good: a loud "Oh my God!" went up from the circle. Or maybe they just found out that someone liked them-liked them instead of just liked them. Although I'd already read everything I needed to in the Voice, it was either that or look at the targets in the Main Space.
I was thinking that The Chalets would be like all the other Britpop bands who get their names by putting "the" in front of random words and thinking that that works, like The Cribs or The Concretes. One of their 2 girls on keyboards (who looks like Winnie Cooper from the Wonder Years) was dressed in a Dorothy-from-the Wizard of Oz-style dress and red sequin pumps so I was expecting them to be schticky, but they weren't. They're also not technically Britpop because they're from Dublin and I'm standing there thru their indie pop thinking, You sure you're from Dublin? Winnie informs us that when they play in Ireland, girls throw their underwear at the guitar player. Uh, sure. Hold on a minute. Don't want you to feel too homesick.
The thing about Art Brut's "franchises" (that I know of) is this: They feel bad about taking such an awesome name and have fan bands all over the world reinterpreting Art Brut music. So I assumed Art Brut 47 was one of those. Kinda interesting, kinda unnecessary. There was a case onstage and on the topside is flourescent yellow duct tape bearing this cryptic message: Please deliver to Knitting Factory New York City USA. It was kinda interesting (to me at least) and kinda funny. Art Brut 47 is a trio and they greeted us with, "Hello, you lot!" Which doesn't sound nearly as fun or full of promise in American as it does in English. They explained that on the previous nite they did do all Art Brut songs and when Art Brut came onstage, they kind of stole their thunder. So they're doing original songs. The first one sounded familiar, though I couldn't place it. A few people were singing along. I felt lost. As the set wore on it becomes obvious that some giant joke is going on and I don't get it. Are they covering Arctic Donkeys songs? Is this the joke? I look around. A guy by the wall looks as bored as I feel. All the songs sound the same and there's nothing distinguishing one from the other. One of the guys in the band has a moustache and I'm thinking, what is this, We Are Scientists? (Now there's actually a band called We Are Wolves and I'm like, Ok, well now you're not even trying.) I'll have to wait to read about this in the Voice to find out, in Sounds of the City or something. I don't like this feeling. That's it. I am so out of it. I should just give up. The drummer takes a pic of the audience, which sets off a chorus of flashes from the audience. And everyone has these big digital Nikons with professional-looking attachments. After the set the DJ announces, "Art Brut 47! Also known as--" And I'm thinking, ok, here it comes. "--Art Brut 47!" He then tells us to go downstairs for another band during the set change, but I don't and I doubt anyone else did. Well, maybe the people in the back of the room. By this point I'm so out of it that when someone from Art Brut 47 picks up the case with the cryptic delivery slip on it, a piece of yellow tape on the front that says We Are S-- barely registers before the guy disappears with it. Well, that would explain the other piece of tape next to the delivery message that said W.A.S.
So was the LES crowd the one who gaped adoringly while the Bklyn crowd was the one who got it and showed the LES how it's done? Guess we'll never know, because this time around everyone went crazy and the Knit was way too small for all the surging/dancing/pushing of the soldout crowd. I almost wish that I didn't go to this one so I could just have the SP show as a sweet, magical memory about this band to take away because this way I could think that every show was like that. One drunk guy kept yelling, "Eddiiiiiiiiie! Edddieeeeeee!" and then shoved his way up front. After being pushed back, he charges up front again and stage dives. Eddie stage dived during Modern Art, ensuring more shoving, and the crowd had to pretty much pick him up by the belt loops and hoist him back onstage. "You saw my bum! I feel sorry for you!" he apologized, but the drunken fanboy didn't mind: "I touched your bum! Eddie! I touched your bum!" I had to move back and at the end of the set I had chest pains. They ended with saluting all the bands on the bill, chanting "Chalets! Top Of The Pops! We Are Scientists! Top Of The Pops!" Holy shit. And as soon as the lights went on, everyone started yelling at Drunken Fanboy.
I never get chest pains after crazy shows like that. Walking back to the train, I debate going to the hospital, but I don't. I hope the Uptown 1 is running because I don't have the strength/time to go to Chambers and wait there. And the crowd was just so much better at SP to the point that it was like seeing an entirely different band this time around. Besides, the doctors would probably just say Don't go to see Art Brut at the Siren Festival.
Done.
posted by heather @ 4:44 PM
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