Their long-awaited journey paid it forward for Brighton, England’s indie rock sensation The Maccabees Friday night at The Sinclair. The band arrived, after a week of blizzard-related show cancellations, to perform their first show in Boston on the second week of their tour.
Band members include lead singer Orlando Weeks, guitarists Felix White and Hugo White, bassist Rupert Jarvis, and drummer Sam Doyle. Though claimed to be non-religious, the band supposedly picked their name after flipping through the Bible and choosing “Maccabees” at random. They’ve released three albums so far: 2007’s Color It In, followed by Wall of Arms released in 2009. Their third and latest studio album, Given to the Wild proved itself as a critically acclaimed success, and has been nominated as Album of the Year for the Mecury Music Prize Award. True to name, Given to the Wild is arguably the band’s boldest and most daring work yet.
This Friday night at The Sinclair, the medium-sized crowd from all walks of life (past the age of 21) awaits a showdown. The tribes surround the platform where multiple amps, guitars, bass, drumsets, and mic stands lurk before a classy and simplistic background of velvet purple curtains. The Maccabees will serenade the crowd with their Brighton, England-based sounds tonight; the night before, they played in New York City.
The show begins with Brit-pop opener Reputante. At first, I felt as though I teleported to the 80s and that burnout singer from Valentine’s Day directed by Garry Marshall was wailing into the mic. This band is newly formed and less experienced, which excuses a shaky start, but they eventually warmed up and gave a mediocre melody to bob and sway paired with semi-spastic bursts of rhythm. I could hear some young listener behind me grumble how this band was trying “too hard to be cool.” I personally feel that the “too cool” factor is not the worst insult. Perhaps “trying too hard” can mean that you are simply in the zone, finally unleashing your inner rock fantasy on stage for all to witness as you invite others to make something out of nothing and dream on with you.
The opening band breaks down and it’s the time most have been waiting for. At last, The Maccabees! The Maccabees played an even mix of old and new songs, and though they only played for one hour, the set was entirely satisfactory. The five members were incredibly enthusiastic and excited, and in turn, the crowd jumped and shouted and clapped for every song. The ladies broke out the dance moves, and as a first timer at their show, I was impressed at how many fans belted lyrics to nearly every song. The group ventured to beachy grooves, and it wasn’t uncommon to hear someone in the crowd mention that they felt like they were away from the Boston winter and were instead hanging out on the beach somewhere below the equator. All that they needed now was a Mai Tai and a killer kahuna wave to surf. Pineapple juice yum!
The lighting complemented the cool songs with blue, green, and purple, then changed to yellows and reds to match a new tune’s mood. The band harmonized with some bird calling vocal melodies. Musically, the songs had a flow of dark deepness, juxtaposed by touches of sunshine. Arguably, the band’s distinctive style and groove is what builds their iconic style into what it is and what they will be remembered by.
They started out slow and somber, but transitioned into singing us sultry anthems in a half droney, half dreampoppy and hard hitting style that drew a close parallel to The Strokes and The Shins. By the eighth song, I could pick up that the band was channeling their inner “Where Is My Mind?” by The Pixies. Highly synthy, rocky, and with an intense drum opening, these guys weren’t messing around. They worked to build a climax straight into a raucous ending, leaving listeners pleasantly breathless. The diverse audience all flowed in unison, and it seemed that the once separate crowd became united with a similarly hypnotized gaze and thoughtful disposition. The band’s strong sense of community on stage was contagious to the audience. For example, the German guy next to me was falling madly in love with the Spanish girl next to him, which I know wouldn’t have been possible without the band’s mojo.
As Weeks sings “Let’s make time work for us, let’s take our precious time about it,” diligent listeners make mental notes about how to live in the moment. Just as my thoughts begin to break away from the joy of the moment to poke fun at those around me, The Maccabees remind all listening to “No Kind Words” that “if you’ve got no kind words to say, you should say nothing more at all.”
Indie fanatics ran rampant throughout the venue; however, a majority of the crowd was wildly diverse. Simply curious Harvard locals wandered in, but most of the crowd was a group of hooligan hipsters and party animals looking for a damn good time and some aesthetically pleasing and intellectually stimulating catharsis.
The end comes, and the crowd refuses to leave without an encore. Without a hint of annoyance, the group performs a few of their more folksy songs with complete dedication for a power encore. Fans applaud heavily, give nods of approval, and cheer with appreciation. This is an encore that won’t fade away all too easily.
Photo Credit: Graham Zinger