The lads are back home and are reconnecting with friends, wives and girlfriends so they haven’t had much time to write about last night’s show at Maxwell’s. Since I’m responsible for keeping this blog interesting, I’ve been tapped to cover for them. It was also the first time that I’ve seen the full tour lineup.

First - Hoboken. I’ve never been there before and I have to say that it wasn’t anything like I expected. What did I expect, you ask? Actually, I never really thought about it but if I did, I guess I would have expected an old city with a photo in every shop of the owner with Frank Sinatra. Instead, I was pleasantly surprised by a quaint, modern city with brick sidewalks and cobblestone crosswalks. If it wasn’t so difficult to get there (New York’s problem, not Hoboken’s), I’d love to go back and explore some day. Frank wasn’t far away though; we were just around the corner from Frank Sinatra Dr.

Maxwell’s was smaller than I had thought it would be but it was a terrific place - friendly folks at the door, great food (and, lots of it), an efficient wait staff and a pretty good sound system. Maxwell’s is a legendary club. Rather than going into its history, I’d suggest that you check out their Wikipedia entry.

The show started somewhat late by my standards - I’m normally in bed by 10:00pm - to a rather sparse crowd. First up was Electric Soft Parade. I knew very little about them. I had listened to them on the web and frankly, wasn’t that impressed. Live however, they quickly destroyed my preconceptions. They were tight and very professional, with a harder edge than I had expected. All of them are excellent musicians but the standout, for me, was drummer Mathew Priest, who just may be the reincarnation of Keith Moon. Since the bands are sharing equipment, I was afraid that Tom wouldn’t have anything left of his kit after ESP’s set, but it held up. By the end of their set, I was converted. Check ‘em out - I think you’ll like them a lot.

Pela followed. The crowd had grown a bit by then but was still a lot smaller than I have come to expect at a Pela show. Nonetheless, they put on their usual high energy show. If anything, they’ve elevated the level since I last saw them in April. Despite my warning to Billy to “remember, you have a bum foot”, he ignored it and delivered his usual stomping, climbing, leaping performance; finishing with the now familiar “climbing of the drums”. The only indication of the problem with his foot was an occasional one-footed hop across the stage. It was obviously near the end of the tour and duct tape was in abundance, both on the band and the equipment. If you were worried that the Mercury show would be a little lower key than usual, fear not. Strap your self in; it’s going to quite a ride.

The show closed with Brakes (or Brakes, Brakes, Brakes it you must). I didn’t know what to expect, but the band, led by vocalist Eamon Hamilton and guitarist Tom White quickly hooked me. Hamilton is an incredibly intense singer, reminiscent both vocally and physically, of Michael Stipe. Near the end of the show, he put down his guitar and stood stock still with his arms by his side and rendered a vocal that immediately silenced the crowd and left them hanging on every word. On their final song, both Hamilton and White went mildly berserk, with White leaping into the crowd and Hamilton performing a series of leaps that would challenge Billy even if he had two good feet. The crowd may have been thin, but didn’t lack enthusiasm. It was really great to see people dancing at a show (note to Mayor Bloomberg - please change the cabaret laws to allow dancing in NYC music clubs).

The tour closes this weekend at the Mercury Lounge in NYC. Tonight’s show is sold out, but there are still a few tickets available for Sunday. This is the best show in NY at the moment. Don’t miss it.

Webbie

p. s. Brakes stole the merchandise award with the best concert shirt I’ve seen in a long time.

p. p. s. I almost forgot to mention that Breaks and ESP are great guys. Be sure to talk to them if you get the chance (if you can understand them - they speak a strange language called English).

p. p. p. s. Note to Maxwell’s lights guy - it would be good to light the singer’s face, not his chest.

p. p. p. p. s. I’ve heard a rumor that a certain spaceman may make an appearance on Sunday night.

Trackback this Post | Feed on comments to this Post