False Alarm
The Airborne Toxic Event proves not terribly infectious at Spaceland
By Greg Katz
I had my identity crisis in eighth grade. My mom bought me big beige Vans with huge laces, denim shorts that covered most of my shins, and a red T-shirt emblazoned with a caricature of Felix the Cat. Oh, and I got my first pair of boxers. Thrilled with what I thought would be my new identity, I sported my sk8r ensemble the next day, but, when leaving fifth-period band class – where I played tuba – some guys on skateboards passed by and called me “bro.” Ugh. The day after that, I switched back to my old clothes, tighty-whities and all.
Like eighth-grade boys, bands too have identity crises. Silver Lake group the Airborne Toxic Event is playing its out right now in a month-long, Indie 103-sponsored Thursday residency at Spaceland.
Named for either a euphemism in Don DeLillo’s White Noise or a plot to terrify soccer moms by tainting the popular vitamin C drink, the Airborne Toxic Event managed to pack the 260-capacity club for its 11 p.m. set last Thursday (January 11). The air was thick with humidity as, clad in concert black, the players plugged in, sound-checked, and sneaked backstage for that time-honored rock tradition of making the audience wait for no earthly reason.
After the requisite 10-minute simmering period, the quintet took the stage again and started in on “Sometime Around Midnight,” a rewrite of the brisk, Springsteenian guitar-rock epics Arcade Fire has made its name on. Vocalist (and former Filter Magazine managing editor) Mikel Jollett gave his best impression of Win Butler’s urgent shout-singing; violinist/keyboardist Anna Bulbrook provided a mournful string line (a dead ringer for those Owen Pallett wrote for Arcade Fire’s Funeral); and the song began with the lyric “And it starts/sometime around midnight,” reminiscent of LCD Soundsystem’s “All My Friends,” which kicks off with “Here’s how it starts/we go back to your house.” Even if the ATE didn’t intentionally reference that clichéd opening line, it made the song sound all the more like a paint-by-numbers Cathartic Rock Anthem.
After a few more epics, the band threw a curve with “Does This Mean You’re Moving On,” a cheeky, disco-via-punk stomp that borrows liberally from Franz Ferdinand’s “Take Me Out,” replete with staccato guitar stabs, clasping high-hat, and low-register vocals à la FF leader Alex Kapranos. The group spent the rest of the hour alternating between playful dance punk and pleading anthemic rock, sometimes more like the Strokes, or the Cure, or U2, never staying in one place for too long.
To be fair, it’s not unusual for a band in its nascent stages to sound transparently like its influences, and even groups who are as yet unsure of themselves can nonetheless be fun in concert. But with all the style-hopping, the Airborne Toxic Event just never built any momentum, and, from the looks of it, neither inspired the audience to dance nor connected with the crowd much at all. (It didn’t help that Jollett became jittery after breaking several guitar strings early on.) When the band left the stage, applause quickly gave way to recorded music on the PA.
Then they decided to play an encore.
As the Airborne Toxic Event ended its set again, Jollett mentioned that the crowd should stay for Davin Givhan’s 12:15 set, but the advice fell on deaf ears. The audience poured through the exit, and Spaceland flushed with 72-degree conditioned air. Meanwhile, Givhan’s quartet took the stage wearing comically ugly sweaters, set up their amplifiers, and began, unassumingly, to play – no need for a 10-minute simmering period. The band treated the eight of us left on the dance floor to a short set of baroque balladry that recalled Silver Lake hero Elliott Smith’s hopeless folk-pop. While Givhan never crawled too far out of Smith’s shadow, he didn’t need to; his songs rang with sincerity, performed as they were with poise and perfect competence.
Givhan took off his guitar to a chant of “one more song,” and, smiling, didn’t oblige.
Published: 01/16/2008
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