On stage—the Milling Gowns, cialis Boston’s premier gloompop band. Somewhat unsurprisingly, online watching the band is more of a meditative activity than an upbeat one. The lead singer, malady who sounds something like a cross between Ian Curtis and James Morrison, acts like a black hole, sucking the energy out of the room. Well, at least until after the second song when someone yells “fuck yeah,” and it begins to dawn on me that gloom pop might be awesome.
Despite the lead singer’s gravitas, the MVP of the band’s evening is no doubt the bassist. Wearing a tight polka dot shirt, and donning a shaggy handlebar moustache and clean-shaven head, he plays either eighth notes or whole notes, and not too many different ones either (bassists take note, this is way to do it). That said, he is easily the most dynamic performer in the band, and the group certainly would not be the same without him.
As far as the rest of the band goes, my guess is they either all just woke up from a nap, or took a lot of morphine. But that was cool. I have a lot of respect for anyone who can get up on stage, sound pretty bummed, and still be engaging.
My favorite piece was no doubt the last song that started off with a long intro; it sounded like a hurricane approaching at an extremely slow rate, thanks to a high whistling noise the guitar was making. I think the chorus may have gone something like “I will see / I will see / Tombstones”, but I can’t be 100% sure. Cool, I’m ready to die.
Then we have Velah. Sadly, they are missing their bassist, which takes a bite out of their low end, but c’est la vie, here’s for pop that’s all about the jangles. They are a little ashamed about this, but their embarrassment is more endearing than pathetic, and they’ve got my attention.
Channeling some serious Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes vibes (to my ears at least, we’re all different when it comes to the grand network of band genealogy), they sing in harmony about love, heartbreak, and all that good stuff. You can connect with the audience in a million different ways, but having the ability to realistically express your emotions in recognizable narratives is always a sure fire way to go. Their music lacks some originality due to this, but I can’t help but be drawn in when they open their mouths. Whether they do or not, it seems like they have a story to tell. Even their guitar solos, which consist mostly of slow, emphatic melodies played with heavy reverb, sound more like the musings of a poet turned musician than something out the rock idiom.
Next, it is the headliner, Future Carnivores, celebrating the release of their second album. Yes! Nothing like a slender lead singer dude and a shy manic pixie dream girl type on keyboards to really get your goat. He seems to be telling a story no one really understands, and she seems to be off in her own world, as if she’s trying to escape the reality that she’s playing live in front of a crowed room. What’s going on!? It works, though.
Future Carnivores are all about their rhythm section. Maybe it’s the band’s name, but I can’t shake the feeling that a hundred soulful dinosaurs are approaching me by way of time machine. The bassist keeps us firmly rooted on one chord, but there’s plenty happening to keep it going still—pounding toms, a jumpy bass line, and plenty of angular vocal harmonies. We’re on a carousel, and it’s a lot of fun and very beautiful.
Future Carnivores definitely have the biggest draw, and the most presence of the evening, which is a good thing, as it’s their show after all. Excited to hear more from them soon!