The past weekend was a stunner for live music, with two bands at the height of their power exploding brilliantly in our own back yard.
The groups consisted of the Austin henchmen who make up And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead, and the softer, kinder, more groove-oriented Scottish blokes of The Beta Band.
Talk about opposite ends of the spectrum. One band is known for screaming loudly and trashing instruments; the other for astronaut costumes and backward videos of sheep projected onto backdrops.
And You Will Know Us By the Trail of Dead . . .
The Trail of Dead came first, Thursday night at Club Clearview. The club was packed, and the band descended to the stage to the creepy tunnel tune from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory.
As soon as the first song erupted, the energy was present. Pile-driving drums and roaring guitars came in endless waves.
By the end of the second song, microphone stands were flying and one of the guitarists was bashing the cymbals with his guitar. Now that’s rock ‘n’ roll.
Over the course of the show the band members traded instruments and singing roles, and a guy dressed in a chicken costume (a representative from Good Records) slam danced around before stage diving over and over.
“We’ve had some crazy stuff happen, but we’ve never seen anything like this before,” responded the bassist, in not-so-polite terms.
Guitar strings were popped on almost every song, and incredible moments of connection arose at points when the guitarist would lean back onto the outstretched hands of the audience as he tore through soaring chord progressions.
For the last number, members of the audience were invited up onstage, and about thirty fans squeezed themselves together before the whole scene lit into an insane pogoing mosh pit that eventually managed to trash the entire set. The band didn’t even seem to care.
The Trail of Dead is an adrenaline-fueled rock ‘n roll monster that pushes music to its most visceral and transcendental point while simultaneously managing to pull its audience closer rather than distancing them to the steps beneath the pedestal.
The Beta Band . . .
Three days later, the Gypsy Tea Room hosted the sonic experimentalism of The Beta Band.
Before taking the stage a film resembling the Beastie Boy’s Sabotage video was projected onto a screen. It featured the band members running around with fake guns, chasing each other in cars and bicycles and just being goofy.
Once the music began it was all business. The Beta’s everything-and-the-kitchen-sink approach was funneled nicely live, with plenty of samples, keyboards and a surprisingly dominant guitar sound that rocked the house.
The bass was thumping as usual, and the whole crowd danced to the mile-thick groove. Transitions popped up out of nowhere, and song structures were played with in ways that kept even the most seasoned listeners on their toes.
Now all this stuff is great, but it doesn’t raise the band to a level of greatness. What does raise them to this level is the little things.
Onstage dancing so infectious it can’t help but wear off on the audience, human beat-box rhythms thrown down by front man Steve Mason at odd intervals, mid-song bongo breakdowns injected with skillful turntable scratching and yes, backward video of the band rolling up hills in the Scottish countryside and chasing sheep all add to the total package.
I would call The Beta Band psychedelic, except their lead singer says, “Psychedelic to me means hippies with a terrible case of flatulence rolling around with needles hanging out of their arms.”
Ok, so I won’t call them psychedelic, but a trumpet player dressed in a wizard costume does sort of cry out for it.
Here is a band that sounds like every band you’ve ever heard, but doesn’t sound like anyone else.
Here is a band whose encore was almost as long as its regular set.
Here is a band that fuses rhythms, visuals, morphing guitars and multi-voice harmonies into an intoxicating concoction of sound that’s one of a kind.
Here is a band that matters.