The Living End: [Australia]
I bought tickets for this show months in advance because this.band.rocks. I was
seriously enthused for this show – even pushed through after first successful
CoffeeMeetsBagel-date went long and involved too many beers. In my head, this
band is just perfect rock. Why do the others even play? I guess, technically,
they’re mostly punkabilly … but, then again, is anything else really rock? I’m
on a ledge here. Let’s just settle on: I was really excited for this show. And,
in the end, it was a mixed bag. I understand them better now – they’re
basically a really excellent pub band. My passion, like many bands, was based
on a limited selection of songs, for one a cover of The Cure’s “10:15 Saturday
Night” (never judge a band based on a cover!). But there’s also “Misspent Youth,”
“Second Solution,” “West End Riot.” So, for the most part, they fulfilled my rock fantasy – the majority
of their songs were perfect – super rocking, super tight, a la The Hellacopters
really. Punkabilly for sure, some ska punk a la Citizen Fish, and power-pop-punk
… like Green Day… I’m loath to say because elitist punks (CAPITALS) have
developed such an aversion to Green Day. Fortunately I haven’t. And then there
were these solid classic rock moments – long guitar solos. But then… there were
other songs… they have a healthy amount of cock rock in them, made tolerable by
their high degree of literism - the lead singer’s forthright lyrics were what
struck me immediately actually. But even worse than Green Day and cock rock,
they did this really painful ‘love song’ and I just felt so sorry for his
upright bass player who had to sing backup for this total crowd killer. So they
were literally all over the place – they do what they do very well but I have a
hard time with bands that lack an identity and this band definitely shines a
little brighter when they focus on the sounds That Dara Likes. As blokes, they’re
excessively likeable – genuinely weird – they’re from Australia after all. The
crowd kept yelling these Aussie chants that I thought were just a tad
insensitive. The lead singer cracked jokes (an ode to Patrick Swayze, how he
interloped on his drummer’s girl) that made it clear he’s not indie,
alternative, or punk – a proper populist. He was in aged-rocker wear (leopard
print?) . The drummer’s outfit: aye. The upright bass player, delicious in his
face only a mother could love and his thick little mohawk. Living End
definitely improved the crowd – tripping guy was given free reign - the
software engineers were falling all over themselves to pat the bottoms of
the members of The Darts as they crowd surfed. A guy in an Eat: Oyster Bar
shirt (the place I ate at after I signed my first lease in Portland) was overcome
with joy - jerking to the left, jerking to the right.
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