The cinetrix would like to apologize for shirking her celluloid duties this week. You see, not only have I had crates of work to do, but the "Fesser and I have experienced something of a nightlife renaissance. Tuesday we headed to a listening party for the latest superspendy Soul Jazz Records release: 600% Dynamite. We were hoping for some swag, but no dice.
Last night, I meant to be dutiful and take in Dorothy Arzner's Craig's Wife, with Rosalind Russell, after work, but I was tired, and then there was the solar flare and... Well, we ended up seeing Ted Leo + the Pharmacists, and I'm still grinning. You see, Ted Leo is a hyperliterate angry young musician who in both songs and appearance is a unironic, uncalculated throwback to the era that the Strokes and all those other retrophiliac bands have been strip-mining for the past couple of years. Basically, he sounds like then if then happened now. The 'Fesser put it nicely when he said that TL+P could have come from 1976, or 1978, but not 1977.
As a performer, Leo's one of those skinny boy rockers--all sproingy Ritalin, up-on-tiptoes action as he sings and plays guitar. A guitar, I might add, that is tethered to his amp by the loveliest red, telephone-cord-spiral cord since Elvis Costello burst onto the scene. Sporting a magnificent white-boy 'fro and splendid brown poly togs, thundering bassist David Lerner was nothing short of a savant, channeling Graham Maby of the Joe Jackson band from way back when. Plus, he wore the sort of light, orangey-brown, pointy leather shoes that Al Pacino would have worn in the seventies. You may have gleaned by now, I had a great time.
Also, I rarely get to see that many baby hipsters in captivity any more. You could tell they were all planning on moving to Williamsburg the moment they graduated. Lotsa earnest grampa cardigans and shag haircuts. I just wanted to put them all in a terrarium and feed them Camel Lights and udon noodles.
Some highlights: the dancing tambourine guy, who stood at the back of the stage next to the drum kit and totally rocked out on one song, working his shoulders and leaving me longing for my own personal tambourine attendant, who would follow a few steps behind me and just shake-shake-shake. Also, the world's most polite stagediver, who clambered onto the stage during "Hearts of Oak," caught Leo's eye, mimed his intention, then jumped onto the crowd with only marginal success. And, strangely enough, the intro and extro music on the PA system before the set: James White and the Blacks' "Contort Yourself," followed by Afrika Bambaataa, and then Prince's "Controversy." And on the other side, a song by Sister Nancy that sent us out into the night on a slow rollicking reggae groove.
