Art Brut live!
Art Brut
Metro, Chicago
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Rock ‘N’ Roll has always been fueled by excessive ego and/or id. Oasis is the greatest band ever; just ask them. The Hives once told a capacity crowd at Metro, “Thank you Chicago! You’ve been great. And so were we.” So it was a bit odd that halfway through Art Brut’s enthusiastic set late Thursday night, someone felt compelled to yell “You suck!” while front man Eddie Argos was addressing the enraptured throng. But instead of marching into the audience and stomping the wanker (he’d save that move for a pogo sing-along with said disciples a few songs later), all he could muster up was a shrug of the shoulders and a wounded puppy reply of “We’re trying our best.”
But the thing was, they most decidedly did not suck. Hot on the heels of a much talked about appearance at South By Southwest, the scrappy quintet from the other side of the pond are currently indie-rock’s most self-effacing heroes. Looking like an Oxford prepster in khakis, a crumpled button down, and rocking an unironic moustache, Argos was the antithesis of the swaggering lead singer.
His sing/speak delivery and proper London accent is what takes rudimentary garage rockers like “Formed A Band” and “Moving To L.A.” and turns them into charming snapshots of the everyday life of 20somethings everywhere. If fact, the former is delivered with equal parts enthusiasm and astonishment, as if the lads (and lady) almost lucked into their current lot in life. The latter is a hilarious observation of life on the left coast (“I’m drinking Hennessey with Morrissey, on a beach, out of reach, somewhere very far away”) from the perspective of a guy who sounds psyched to not be working in a factory in some dead-end English town.
On their much lauded (and deservedly so) debut, Bang Bang, Rock & Roll, the playing, at times, sounds tepid and anorexic. Life on the road has, however, fleshed out the songs into minimalist, muscular workouts. Bassist Freddy Feedback kept things turgid and tidy on rave-ups like “Modern Art” and “My Little Brother,” seamlessly fusing with drummer Mikey B, who played his kit standing up and delivered shticky showmanship, replete with flamboyant poses and sunglasses that miraculously remained on top of his head throughout. This bottom-heavy canvas allowed guitarists Jasper Future and Ian Catskilkin to bleed their inner MC5 aspirations whenever and wherever they pleased.
Still, the real show is Argos. The guy seethes self doubt and limited confidence. But that doesn’t stop him from leaving it all on the boards at the end of the night. On the show closing “Good Weekend,” there he was, amazed he somehow not only procured a girlfriend, but has since managed to have “seen her naked, TWICE!” He followed that with a now familiar mantra-like chant: “Art Brut! ‘Top Of The Pops!’” Only a heartless bastard would wish anything less for him.
In what could be the most, um, original act to grace Metro’s stage this year, Gil Mantera’s Party Dream proved that the sight of two less-than-chiseled men in bikini briefs and cowboy boots is not destined for mass consumption anytime soon. Their beat-box compositions were enough to occasionally stir the crowd, but they ultimately lost them after throwing beer soaked pita bread and apples into the pit. In a word: unsettling.
— Curt Baran
Category: Live Reviews, Weekly
