This sentence is a forewarning, and I’ll try not to sound too white-collar… but when you enter TT the Bear’s Place to a multi-color projector, an undersized onstage screen, and a crowd of less than 15, there’s no disputing the venue’s resemblance to a break room talent show. It’s visually dorky. It’s audibly comfortable. The bathroom’s accessible, and an around-the-water-cooler mentality touches all of us attempting to make conversation. As for the acts in this setting, I underestimated them. They were all masters in their own departments.
Nightime Sunshine opened the show with layered freeform that travelled from nostalgia through to futuristic thinking. Juggling every sound himself, the one-man artist from Cambridge presented psychedelia one step at a time.
Most songs started off with the same sharp electric metronome, video game-like and very “Oh I get it. The song’s starting now.” Warped guitar, recorded cello, horns of sorts and what I can only describe as “pleasing noises” built up the tracks, making it hard for me to decide whether it all sounded more like Chicago-based Curtains or not-Beirut-based Beirut. The still crowd of co-worker-like uncomfortables faded out, and I was mesmerized to say the least when a longer song ebbed and flowed to the lyrics “times a’ changing” and a fitting video projection of an ocean current.
I had to hand it to him. Piecing together a complete experience while simultaneously playing guitar and keyboard is the essence of DIY.
Upping the members from one to six, Doug Tuttle took the stage next with the type of set I’d confidently take my father to go see: Reebok-less but true to rock, experimental but steady while traveling. Too ambiguous. I know.
I’ll try to describe this in as to-the-point a fashion as the performance provided: Doug Tuttle is good. Really good. Very-much-yes good. With that said, I think his music does the work so Doug doesn’t have too. His band’s performance is and audial one, no outlandish stage antics necessary.
Awesome songwriting translated well in the live space though as Doug’s band gave full dynamics within almost every song. Bright sections provided catchiness while noise sections abstracted what we were listening to. I’d call this episodic, but that might imply a change in mood. I was smiling the whole time thanks to expertly played licks and my own bias toward the happy yet murky genre.
Did they dance? Nah. Did that matter? Most definitely nah.
From the moment Weyes Blood‘s frontwoman Natalie Mering did her mic check to a major triad, I knew more perfectionistic playing (and singing) was to come. I didn’t however predict the emotional air that would fill the space, slowing small talk and closing eyelids. I should have done my homework. Weyes Blood was, is and will continue to be heartbreakingly beautiful.
The indie-folk outfit opened with a new song, which channelled a highly relatable message of self-blame. “I must confess. I play a selfish game,” sang Mering in a voice quivering with truth and maybe a few nerves. There was a refreshing innocence in the way she limited her set banter to announcing song titles and timidly thanking the other bands. The set was streamlined in a way best depicted by her line “I wanted to introduce my band, but they wish to remain anonymous.”
So mysteriously professional. So elevated break room talent show.
In contrast, the song titles themselves couldn’t have been more correct. Each one also served the purpose of initial lyrics and overarching concept. This was blatantly heard in the group’s performance of “Ashes,” an expert sum of parts that somehow got me to feel some mortality-centric feelings. Weird. I-won’t-be-here-forever weird. Beautiful weird.
But nothing brings a contemplative listener back to reality than a pre-set greeting from the men of CreaturoS. “Hi. We’re Hootie and the Blowfish,” they said after mic-checking via their social security numbers. The office-party-of-a-crowd chuckled with cups in hand. A newbie to seeing them live, I immediately discovered why the garage-rock quartet is such a Boston favorite. They’re hilarious and good at what they do.
And that includes playing. Driven tracks comprised a set louder and more exhilarating than the night’s rest, providing equal competition to the 75-dollar-per-ticket hip-hop show going on downstairs. No offense to whoever payed money to see Jadakiss on Thursday… but why did you pay money to see Jadakiss (on Thursday)?
CreaturoS played hard, and I can’t imagine that not being custom for the group. “We have these instruments. Let’s play them,” is what I hypothesized as their mantra while indulging in tracks from this October’s masterpiece Popsicle. There was always someone shredding something, and it was good to hear equal bass, guitar and drum representation on that front.
For added intrigue, a new song was thrown into the set and received the title of my favorite of the night. It was a good harsh, the accessible kind equipped with four-chord hits and space for them to resonate. The label “a solid rock song” seems ambiguous but also apt. For now, that’s the best I can do.
Throwing away my plastic cup of water and only water, I couldn’t decide who won the title of “best.” The nodding heads of my over-21 peers seemed consistent all night, even if the genres were not. Good variety brings a talent show. Good work brings a satisfaction, guaranteed.
