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The Duke Spirit - 05/08/08 |
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Written by Hunter
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Saturday, 10 May 2008 |
The Duke Spirit
The Crystal Ballroom
05/08/08
I've always
felt some deep vein of soul with The Duke Spirit's music. Their sound
is like that of Jefferson Airplane crossed with a very bluesy Sonic
Youth, yet the painful lament of catty vocalist Liela Moss and the dark
and brooding instrumental variety they hold quite high has created an
insatiable taste in my mouth, it truly sets them apart from their
influences. I was quite pleased indeed when informed they were playing
Portland within weeks of discovering them, what better way to solidify
my love for their music.
I will come right out and say that Liela
stole the show; ripped it clean out of the talons of the ferociously
talented masters of shred that accompanied her. She carries herself
like a vindictive goddess assuming the chassis of a woman who's seen
the worst facet of man and oh, how betrayed, bitter and pissed she is.
The subject matter is quite dark and trickles with tragedy but the ever
present grind of guitar and the fury of Ms. Moss leaves us feeling far
from helpless in the face of doom. Pointing with her words to the crowd
accusingly during songs such as 'Love Is An Unfamiliar Name' and 'Hello
To The Floor', we felt judgement being rained down upon us, whether or
not we called it upon ourselves or some inherited guilt bestowed on us
by our forefathers, not a damn thing could divert her wrath. Eternal
damnation could easily have been slipped into our drinks that evening
and not many would have cared, it felt quite amazing actually. Drawn in
by her mad spectral twist about the stage, I recall meeting her
devilishly seductive eyes for what seemed like an eternity or more and
I could swear that her diabolical smiling eyes summon Calypso herself.
Helpless and intrigued, all I could do was smile wantonly in return.
It
was a strange and beautiful moment when Liela pulled out her harmonica.
Careening to the twangy guitar, she dispelled the demons of doubt with
every breath that passed through the instrument. It was arresting, I
grabbed hold of the stage and closed my eyes. "I can't help it, I can't
help it" she confessed with her own variety of composure. She slung
herself over the mic stand in the most revealingly tender moments of
the entire show. Not to be confused with surrender, as the guitars came
to silence and Liela's head bowed before us, she sprang to the center
of the stage as the thunder of guitar returned and we are all reminded
that nothing comes completely undone.
All in all it was a short and
sweet torrent of sheer talent and raw soul. The songs ran seamlessly
back to back, it was a neat package that delivered a healthy dose of
their new album with traces of their last. I would have liked to see
more from their last work which employed truly sinister traces of
classic delta slide guitar, but that is far from a complaint. If
anything, I was given a taste for blood and simply can't wait for my
next helping. Come back to Portland!
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