Home  Reviews Concern/Parenthetical Girls/Casiotone For The Painfully Alone - Portland, OR - 01/09/08
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Concern/Parenthetical Girls/Casiotone For The Painfully Alone - Portland, OR - 01/09/08 |
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Written by Hunter
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Monday, 21 January 2008 |
Another rainy Portland night. I had heard
Parenthetical Girls off the social music network last.fm and fell in
love upon first listen. I was delighted to see that they were playing
the following week at a little dig called The Artistery for only $6. I
didn't figure there'd be much of a turnout, especially with the rainy
mist drenching the city but sure enough as I approached the door, other
gloomy figures followed from around every corner. Little did I know
they were all coming for a completely different band. Regardless, I was
there to see Parenthetical Girls and delighted at that; this was the
first show I had been to in nearly 6 months......very unhealthy.
The
Artistery is perfect. Tucked 43 streets inland on SE Division, it's
definitely a modest joint that doesn't take pride in itself. A white
house with a huge A printed on the side, I had a helluva time finding
it. I walked in and it seemed almost like it was set to be a houseshow,
but the music vibrating through the walls of the entire house begged to
differ. The bundled folks crept downstairs to reveal a vast basement
sporting a tea cafe and a carpeted stage on the opposite end. I'm still
not sure about the management or how it all got started but they
definitely had the right idea. The 5 foot speakers to left and right of
the stage assured everyone it'd be a gloriously loud evening.
I
grabbed some free tea from the cafe (yeah, they're pretty courteous),
met with the band leader of Parenthetical Girls, bought two of their
albums and proceeded to sit down cross legged amongst the crowd sipping
my warm tea and waiting for the show to start.
CONCERN
The
first act was a single man whom goes by the moniker of Concern. I
didn't even know he was one of the artists until about 10 minutes into
his noise display. He just sat hunched over his equipment tinkering
with controls while a strange haze of voice and noise grew louder and
louder. So loud in fact, that it became almost unbearable. I could see
some other folks cringe a bit at the shrieks of noise, others plugging
their ears. Once the intro died down a bit, he broke out some other
equipment and gave us some ethereal spacey ambience tinged with odd
feedback here and there. I wish I had a strong vocabulary for
instruments because at one point he broke out an interesting
accordion-like instrument which excited me based on the trippy noise he
had already unleashed upon us, lord knows what this would bring. To my
disappointment, all it seemed to do was send an unbearable hiss and
crackling through the huge speakers, almost as if there was a glaring
problem with the sound. He didn't budge. Was it supposed to be
unbearable? If not, he sure as hell didn't care.
I tried to look
past the hissing and scratches here and there and really, he brought
some strange ambient sound to the table. For a long while, time seemed
to disappear. Folks around me just closed their eyes; I did the same
for a while, but at the same time I wanted to observe this guy, figure
out what he was up to and if he was worth looking into. Maybe he was
just a beginning performer and needed to work the kinks out. Who knows,
but regardless, once he picked up the guitar, I was captivated. Amid
the space noise, he sat down for the first time this entire 40 minutes
or so and strummed this simple acoustic guitar, bringing the earthiest
guitar notes I've ever heard through the speakers and straight to my
ears. My eyes just rolled back. BEAUTIFUL! A crackle of thunder roared
through the basement, and with it a sweet desert rain to accompany
these notes. I knew something was up, judging from his display so far,
he was going somewhere with this. His foot tapped a pedal and suddenly
each guitar note was like crunching glass. Over and over, crunch
crunch, crunch, crunch, crunch. Everyone jerked awake and looked
straight ahead as if they wanted to lynch someone. Was his entire act a
play on our emotions? It seemed like he thrived on the manipulation of
our deepest concentration and to that effect I'd say he was victorious.
As
he finished, the crowd clapped. He didn't so much as look at us.
Humiliated? Modest? Maybe he can't look into the eyes of a crowd that
was just witness to his manipulation for fear of rejection or
criticism. Who knows. It was interesting. If nothing else, I
appreciated his ability to transcend time and grab hold of my
concentration so completely with his unpredictable shenanigans. It gave
me a thirst for more ambience that I may have to satiate soonish.
PARENTHETICAL GIRLS
One
of the far more interesting bands I've stumbled across in a while.
Parenthetical Girls have this psychotic youthful innocence about them.
It's almost like stepping into the mind of a troubled innocent and
confused 16 year old girl as the world swarms around her and beats her
blindly with harsh and beautiful realities alike. Zac Pennington, the
lead singer and guitarist, is a very unique individual, he almost seems
to have an identity crisis on record, just look at the cover art for
Safe as Houses. Two naked versions of himself lying on a bare and
peaceful bed. One lays eyes closed, curled comfortably and content with
his partner, whom is another of himself, lying on his back looking
straight up as if to wonder "what the fuck am i doing here!" He
displays this same strange uncertainty onstage.
As Zac grabbed the
microphone for a quieting audience, the band starts with a gentle
lullaby. Drumstick in hand, he tapped it against every surface around
him persistantly as he sang. Eye lids closed, I could see his eyes
moving beneath, swirling about as if he could see the music dancing in
front of him with the cosmos, he would grab at thin air, twist, move
invisible matter along with his hands and words. He's an artist, he can
do that, just don't ask questions. He stepped off stage, kneeled among
the audience tapping the floor with his drumstick, eyes closed,
singing. He approached, literally stood over me, tapping the ceiling as
his voice careened painfully with words of love and anguish. The band
adding their signature touches that make this music so unique. Rachael
Jensen on the keyboard and violin; her presence is essential to the
innocence and vitality of their music, each key longing for simpler
days. Zac would pass between the audience and the stage throughout the
entire set, wherever he felt most inclined by his words. They're a very
modest band, I can see they don't mind attention but they don't crave
it either. Their approach is incredibly non-traditional, sporadic and
impulsive. I like that. Eddy Crichton, the percussionist's energy was
incredible, going from a steady march on the Toms to a bombastic
explosion in the kick drum on Here's To Forgetting, he gives their
music just the drive they need to elevate themselves from tiresome
indie-pop dreck. Matt Carlson is the drive behind the electronica
aspect and gives them an incredibly experimental advantage. I'd like to
see him perform solo, he's got an ear for little audio bugs that crawl
into your ear and stick around with you, laying their eggs and frying
your brain.
All in all, I loved these guys and would have loved to
hear more. Near the end they professed to the crowd that they really
don't know how to play the songs on their new record yet. They do
things a little backward. They record, piece together, THEN learn it
all. Whatever works for them. They were only able to play one song off
this new set and for it they had to rely soley on the piano, "Ben Folds
style" as Zac put it. This definitely isn't how the song will sound on
record but watching Zac lie across the top of the piano kicking his
feet, twirling the microphone as he bobbed to the piano tune and sang
was a sight, just something that can only be appreciated by seeing it
then and there. They finished their set with a cover, I'm not quite
sure what song it was but it was very good nevertheless. It ended with
each member of the band silencing their respective instruments slowly
and gathering around the drumset, delivering beats that had a good
portion of the crowd dancing in center. Then....silence. Huge applause.
T'was a fantastic show.
CASIOTONE FOR THE PAINFULLY ALONE
The
main attraction of the night was Casiotone For The Painfully Alone. I
was set to go to be completely honest. The bus only runs so late after
all. But the hype in this basement kept me around, I had to see what
all the fuss was about and after all, Mary was pretty stoked about
Casiotone herself so I couldn't just abandon ship. Buried by a crowd, I
submitted to squatting against the wall and simply listening to what
musican Owen Ashworth had to offer. I pulled out my notebook and noted
ideas and images his music evoked as I listened, it was a very nice
contemplative place I found myself in. I shall have to try it more
often, too often so much energy and hype is built up with shows, I
found it very rewarding to flee from the energy and find my own place
amongst his music performed right before me.
His sound is quite
largely his own. Completely electronic, his beats range from long,
sweet and heart warming to fast, deep, doom laden and earth shattering
and then to sweeping movements that just forced me to sway back and
forth with a smile on my face. His words are deep, frank,
introspective. I really liked it a lot. The strength in his voice amid
the emotion in his words is actually pretty inspiring, so much so that
I bought his album etiquette during his set. He had a story for nearly
every song. One in particular I found pretty great. A song called Old
Panda Days, simply about a small and humorous japanese goth scene that
came and went rather quickly. He joked about how hard it was to
research and write the song properly because so many of the subjects
would rather have forgotten about their part in the scene completely
than dwell on it enough to write a song. Good stage presence, very
humble and kind. The crowd shouted numerous requests and he couldn't
have been happier to oblige them. His songs were short and sweet, not
too long and over indulgant, just about right. I was glad to have stuck
around. The crowd was just about satisfied when it was all said and
done.
About the time the show ended, I had forgotten about my urgent
need to get outside and catch the last bus completely, stretched out on
the ground digesting the evening. It was pretty fantastic. My first
show in nearly half a year, my mind was racing with ideas, words,
emotions. I resigned to my notebook. After a couple pages, I filed out
with the crowd, another warm cup of tea in hand and into the rainy cold
of Portland, having enriched my life just a bit with three bands, three
visions of the world.
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