A Lesson on Venues

 

Two Northern Berkshire towns were host to up and coming indie rock bands these past two weeks, gearing the county up for a summer chock full of up-and-coming music.

 

The Clark Art Institute in Williamstown, Mass., presented the White Rabbits, a band that has exploded onto the indie-rock scene in recent months, on February 25. Despite a hellish winter storm, college students and curious locals alike came out to see the band.

 

Just as their new hit, “Percussion Gun,” implies, the White Rabbits’ music relies heavily on drums and repetitive rhythms. Their sound is similar to that of British indie rock band Bloc Party--a pulsating, electronic base with angsty, strained vocals cutting through. Their complicated grooves were created with a drum machine, bass, and keyboard--but what really made each song truly pulse was the rhythm percussionist, a tall, lanky guy in the back banging furiously away at the timpani, often with his eyes closed.
 

The lead singer had an intense style that reminded me of Mick Jagger--hitting falsetto notes that made the veins in his neck stick out. Like many indie bands, the vocals included much distortion and heavy rhythmic breathing, giving a distraught tone to the lyrics.

 

All in all, the White Rabbits were a highly energetic act, which made this venue choice all the more complexing. I kept finding myself in the dilemma of having the urge to get up and dance, only to be thwarted by the feeling that it would be extremely awkward or rude if I did. The auditorium at the Clark is a lovely sit-down venue, perfect for solo acts like Dar Williams, but not quite suited towards rock bands that attract a younger crowd, especially those which rely so heavily on loud percussion.

 

Even the band seemed to feel awkward about playing to a silent and still audience--they rushed through their set, only playing for about an hour and a half, and barely attempted to interact with fans in between songs (at one point the lead singer did say, “You guys have the right idea over there,” to a group of college students who had decided to get up and dance in the aisle). It was only during the very last song of the encore that the audience felt inspired to clap along, something that I felt should have been happening throughout the entire performance.

 

I very  much appreciate the Clark’s efforts at expanding their musical repertoire, bringing in new acts, and attracting a different audience, and I look forward to what they have in store for the rest of this year. I do hope, however, that alternate locations will be considered for bands like the White Rabbits to perform in--locations with room for both the casual listener to sit and relax and the excited fan to jump around. Better yet, the lawn in summertime would be the perfect solution for such acts.

 

 This is not to say that all museum venues are difficult for indie bands to play in--quite the contrary, in fact. Just a week later, on March 5, MASS MoCA in North Adams, Mass., played host to popular indie folk band The Low Anthem. The band opened the night all surrounded around a single mic, singing an ethereal tune with bits of a mellow clarinet line weaving its way in and out; and it was immediately clear that the acoustics and overall vibe of Club B-10 were perfectly suited to them, almost eerily so.

 

The Low Anthem has a very unique sound; a mixture of blues, funk, hymns, and folk with touches of classical and country here and there. Their instrumentation is almost just as eclectic, including a saw, dulcimer, flugelhorn, trumpet, stand-up bass, banjo, and many others. What’s more, it seemed that every member could easily play almost every instrument--the lineup switched in some way or another between almost every song. Most impressive was band member Jocie Adams, who in one song sang harmonies and switched back and forth between the dulcimer, trumpet, piano, and clarinet with such ease it was as if they were all one in the same.

 

The band stuck mainly to tracks off of their new album, Smart Flesh, which was recorded in an old abandoned pasta sauce factory in Providence, Rhode Island. Unlike some of their older, rowdier songs, this album features soft and healing harmonies, haunting echoes, and experimentation with natural sound decay in open spaces. (For more on the making of this album, check out this interview in the North Adams Transcript) The entire audience was often caught in a frozen state of awe at the beauty of the subdued vocals mixed with the floating melodies of the saw, clarinet, and dulcimer. When acoustic guitar and other strings were added in, the sound became more traditional indie folk-rock, but remained stunning.

 

 The Low Anthem did stray away from this sound for a foray into a few of their older tracks, which did not suit the small space at all. The onslaught of strings, percussion, and boisterous vocals was overkill, and everything was lost to the audience’s ears (one couldn’t even begin to guess what exactly the lyrics were). I couldn’t help but notice one couple in the the upper section of the club in the back, both with their hands over their ears--these songs simply did not work here. When the band stuck to what the space called for (mainly what they aimed to create with this new album), however, the results were consistently breathtaking. Ending the night with another bare-bones hymn gathered around one mic, the band proved that they were made for this venue, or perhaps the venue was made for them.

 

Keep in mind, though, that not too much credit (or discredit, for that matter) can be given to a venue on its own. It’s a very delicate balance between artist, audience, music genre, and venue that creates a great show. For instance, the White Rabbits could have encouraged their audience to get up and enjoy their music the way it was made to be. And had the Low Anthem not stuck primarily to tracks off their new, low-key album, all of their talents would have been lost in the echoic confines of the club.

 

When it comes to small live shows, you live, you listen, you learn.