SUPER FURRY ANIMALS + Times New Viking+ Jeff Lewis @ Cabaret Juste Pour Rire

By Simon Howell - A Listening Ear - 02/21/2008

It's not often you spot a triple bill in which you're well acquainted with all three groups. In this case, I'd heard two albums apiece by the opening acts, and the headliner was one of my all-time favorite bands. On my way to the venue, I thought about how odd the bill was and when I got there, it turned out I was right -- it was like attending three separate, entirely unconnected events.

First, "anti"-folk singer -- and handsomer fellow than I'd imagined -- Jeffrey Lewis took the stage, armed only with his sticker-laden acoustic guitar and a keyboard. Lewis charmed the crowd early with an a cappella ode to Ramen noodle soup (apparently I should be keeping an eye out for the blue Ichibans). From there, his set consisted of the simple, confessional and funny songs he's known for, albeit interspersed with a pair of tracks from his Crass covers album -- one of which, "Gasman Cometh," was as grim as the rest of the set was goofy. The highlight of the set surely consisted of the song/performance piece, "Creeping Brain," which featured Lewis singing and flipping a storybook depicting the song's epic tale of a giant brain run amok (only to develop into a saintly martyr for human salvation), accompanied solely by himself on a tape recorder, playing guitar and singing backup vocals. I was a little disappointed that we didn't get a rendition of "Chelsea Hotel Oral Sex Song," particularly as he was performing in Leonard Cohen's hometown, but he was easily forgiven.

Athens' Times New Viking sped through about a dozen songs in what couldn't have been more than twenty minutes, blasting through their energetic songs with trademark efficiency. As I was observing them I discovered the appropriate name for their style: trad-indie. Their hooky, deliberately crude songs -- complete with lo-fi production values as an aesthetic decision -- betray their basic purpose as somewhat of a nostalgia act for people who need more songs that sound like their favorite bands' earliest, crudest releases. Their aesthetic is seemingly meant to evoke the old rockist idiom that the best bands are writing the best songs in garages and recording them with the crappiest equipment. I don't really mean this in a negative way -- some of their songs are fantastic, particularly "Devo and Wine" (the evening's set opener) and a good portion of their new album, Rip It Off. It's just a little strange to see a talented group so clearly and willfully setting strict boundaries on their sound. They've released three slender full-lengths now, and while there has been some improved songcraft, their forcefully regressive live show made their intentions clear. They've certainly got stage presence and energy, but something about their approach sets me at a bit of a distance.

(It should also be mentioned that drummer/vocalist, Adam Elliot, committed the second act of microphone imbibing I've witnessed in as many months. The first was at Clockcleaner's deafening New Year's show. Is this some sort of emerging trend I've been missing out on, or have overeager vocalists always been doing this sort of thing?)

The last time the Super Furries came to town, they were still on a major label, touring in support of their most divisive LP to date, Love Kraft. The album represented their most indulgent period; it featured massive orchestral arrangements, choirs, massive choruses and songs that routinely stretched well beyond five minutes. Predictably, the show I saw in support of it was a little heavy on the portentous numbers from that album, albeit still interspersed with a few of the spiky pop tunes of their past. This time around, it's a different story altogether. They're touring in support of Hey Venus!, their most concise, pop-minded album since their 1996 debut, Fuzzy Logic. Now signed to Rough Trade after their contract with Epic expired, the band members were stripped of the more extravagant aspects of their old live shows -- no laser suits (although they did have matching outfits emblazoned with Keiichi Tanami's artwork), no projectors and no golf karts. The only multimedia indulgence this time around was a widget on their website that allowed fans to vote for which songs out of a shortlist they most wanted to hear performed.

The five-piece was distilled to the most basic aspects of its sound without many of the synth embellishments of the Love Kraft era -- this was a guitar-dominated affair. The awkward exception was opener, "Slow Life," whose programmed beat and orchestral elements the band played on top of, rather than attempting to recreate. It was a bit like they were doing a karaoke set of their own track, and bandleader Gruff Rhys' laconic vocal work on the song didn't help. The rest of the set's first block was overly dominated by the group's fastest, shortest pop songs -- "Do or Die," "Rings Around the World," "Golden Retriever," "Neo-Consumer," and an unfortunate new version of classic single, "Northern Lites," which did away with the original's bizarrely appealing combination of sprightly horns and steel drums in favor of a steamrolled electric guitar arrangement.

The set took a much-needed turn with an amazing performance of "Receptacle for the Respectable," a tripartite pop epic that made use of, among other things, a voice modulator, multiple guitar switches and carrots (famously recreating the crunching percussion on the Beach Boys' "Vege-Tables"). The song's roaring faux-metal climax even culminated in Gruff gloriously crossing guitar necks with lead guitarist, Bunf, and bassist, Guto. It was a silly moment, but their sheer conviction and ability let them pull it off with panache. Similarly successful were older tracks like "She's Got Spies," "Juxtaposed With U" (on which Gruff switched between standard and vocodered vocals with ingenuity), and the sole Welsh track of the night, terse rocker "Calimero." After a brief return to the aimless energy of the first half with upbeat, but vacuous, Hey Venus! tracks "Baby Ate My Eightball" and "Into the Night," things perked up again near the very end with a spirited rendition of early single, "The Man Don't Give a Fuck" -- performed at its original running length as opposed to the twenty-minute techno freak-out version that had graced their last few tours -- and psychedelic pop nugget, "Keep the Cosmic Trigger Happy."

After their twenty-song, ninety-minute set, the band held up signs proclaiming "Resist Phony Encores," and indeed they didn't return once they exited the stage. I was left with mixed feelings about the set. They'll always one of my very favorite bands, and have been since the release of Rings Around the World, but I sometimes wonder if they know their strengths. Their slower pop numbers are at least as satisfying as their upbeat ones, if not more so, and a better balance of both would have been appreciated. Of course, the audience voted to include "Golden Retriever" and "Northern Lites" rather than "Carbon Dating" or "Down a Different River," so I must be in the minority on this.

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