Results tagged “blackcat”

       

As the cold remnants of Hurricane Ida drenched the Mid-Atlantic, a few intrepid souls left the quotidian comforts of home to gather at the Black Cat for three sets of warm acoustic bluesfolk from Mimicking Birds, The Low Anthem, and headliners Blind Pilot. The lineup was assembled from across the US—the first and final hailing from Portland, OR, the median from Providence, RI. The main stage room was full and hazy with persistent, idle chatter. People dribbled in like wet rats.

       

This isn’t the first time that Thao Nguyen has sold out the Black Cat. It’s actually become an expectation, like death and taxes, that the young guitarist from Falls Church, VA and her awkwardly named band will bring the crowds and start a party. Party seems an unlikely description of a show by a band who specializes in rather harsh tunes about heartbreak and loss. But Thao’s feisty presence and quickness to invite others onstage elicited a celebratory homecoming atmosphere.

           

Every so often a songwriter emerges who captures something about the city he calls home. Elliot Smith was as Portland as fixies and strollers. There is something free and unmistakably flyover about Omaha, Nebraska's Conor Oberst. Kurt Vile -- who finished a tour to support his latest record (and first release on Matador Records), , at the Black Cat on Thursday -- is making his claim as a lo-fi laureate of Philadelphia.

By DCist Contributor Adam Mazmanian

You'd be forgiven for thinking that the Real Estate/Girls show Tuesday night at the Black Cat was an extended tribute to The Clean, an open-mic homage to the under-known but influential Kiwi punk band. Hell, the show might have been a two-set-long cover act, the way both bands indulge in heavy chorus pedal and simple chord progressions and fancy-free songs about summer love. You'd certainly be in your right mind to be excited by a show with so much surf-punk. How could Girls go wrong?

          

Thursday night wasn’t the first time that the Dirty Projectors have ever played the Black Cat, but it was possibly the first time that a lot of those Black Cat patrons had seen the Dirty Projectors. That the band has raised its profile in the wake of album-of-the-year contender Bitte Orca was not lost on the musicians, as they alternately rose to the occasion and second guessed their decisions. Not two songs after singer/multi-instrumentalist Angel Deradoorian victoriously proclaimed, “We finally get to play upstairs,” singer/guitarist David Longstreth pondered aloud whether the group's mixture of acoustic and electric instrumentation on "The Bride" was actually working live. Despite audience assurances, he seemed unconvinced.

              

When someone is so excited about forming a band that they write a song about the exuberance of that experience, it’s easy to see them putting on a great live show. Because let’s face it, anyone who proclaims, “Look at us! We formed a band!” is clearly the sort of pop culture loving being that would flaunt how happy they are to be in a band for as long as humanly possible. It also suggests that the person writing such a song is not necessarily someone who by conventional standards appears to be a person in a band.

Venerable D.C. music venue the Black Cat announced today that it will stop selling advance tickets through Ticketmaster, instead switching to competitor Ticket Alternative. The change will become effective September 25, so all shows that are taking place after that date are already on sale via Ticket Alternative.

To listen to the self-titled song from Philadelphia's Free Energy, a breezy surf-ready tune about being young and alive, it would be easy to think that their Black Cat show should be filled with a couple dozen teenagers. Instead, the audience was populated with the people who Free Energy producer, James Murphy, has referred to as "all out of escapes" on the last LCD Soundsystem album. Not an X'ed hand in sight.

         

Having to find a last minute replacement bassist is usually not the secret to putting on a phenomenal show. When that bassist is from your band's original lineup, however, it's a recipe for celebratory nostalgia.

I came to Wreckless Eric and Amy Rigby - the husband/wife rock troubadour duo who played the Black Cat backstage Wednesday night - separately, in very different ways. I caught Rigby as a surprise opening act for Steve Earle at an old theater in my hometown more than half a decade ago in a performance so witty and funny that it inspired my dad's band to go out and record one of her tunes, the sly “Keep It To Yourself.” Meanwhile, English punk-rocker Wreckless Eric (born Eric Goulden) had a minor hit, “Whole Wide World”, that was reverently covered by the beloved, now-defunct Philly band The Bigger Lovers and received some minor notoriety in power-pop circles.

I used to belong to a small and ever-shrinking group of casual Passion Pit fans who think that while their music has merit and hooks galore, there is something about singer Michael Angelakos' voice that is untenable. The Beach Boys are the go-to reference for any band that employs a significant amount of male falsetto, and theirs was an effortless compliment to, and focal point of, that dreamy pop. But Angelakos, on the other hand, sings in a Pterodactyl shriek of a falsetto that was initially so distracting to me that I wrote the band off completely. But last night at Blackcat, I changed my mind. Wrapped in the booming bass and twinkling keys of his band-mates, Angelakos' voice was less shrill and, dare I say, an integral part of a really fun show. I would now simply say, "I'm a fan."

Go to enough shows and you'll hear numerous folks say something to the effect of "I like them better live." Express skepticism about a up-and-coming band and one might hear their defenders say, "Oh, well have you seen them live?"

       

Sometimes bands build up their audience’s energy over the course of a set, but The Thermals had no interest in easing anyone in on Wednesday night at the Black Cat. After a jovial hello from singer/guitarist Hutch Harris, the Portland trio began their hour long set with 2006 standout “Return to the Fold” inspiring a loud, audience-wide sing-a-long. The rest of the show followed suit as Harris, bassist Kathy Foster and drummer Westin Glass gave a filler-free jaunt through their catalog, while the audience did their best to mirror the band's energy and enthusiasm.

      

Thursday was a big night for indie rock, as Illinois were at DC9 while Peelander-Z played at The Red and the Black, which might explain the small turnout at the Black Cat for The Dears, Great Northern, and Eulogies. It was a shame, as all three bands put on good sets.

              

People were surprised by it. The Great Lake Swimmers of Toronto had sold out the back stage at Black Cat on a Tuesday night. Personally, I think this is what happened. People woke up on Sunday, checked the forecast for Monday and Tuesday, saw that the weather would absolutely suck, and began mulling over where they would like to huddle while the cold mist blew outside. Some of them ended up here.

              

This is just a matter of personal preference, but normally I wouldn’t be interested in eight scruffy yet handsome English boys. If they promised a good indie rock show, however, I could make an exception. Tuesday night, the hyped Friendly Fires of St. Albans opened for the über-hyped White Lies of West London at Black Cat.

Bishop Allen are like a 40 degree day. They are the neighborhood bar that isn't necessarily your scene, but sure is close to your house. They are that kid your friend always invites to parties who doesn't seem to add much to a situation, but doesn't take away anything either. Bishop Allen are just totally fine. No more, no less. You'd never be moved to say anything necessarily bad about the band or their performance Friday night at the Black Cat. But you'd never be moved to say much else, either.

L.A.'s the Airborne Toxic Event is on pace to play 300 shows in the span of a year, and neither laryngitis nor a tanking economy nor knives-out Pitchfork reviews are going to stop them. The five-piece takes its name from Don DeLillo's novel White Noise, which caused the fight that broke up my book club, but that's DeLillo's fault, not the band's. They're slated to hit the Black Cat mainstage tonight at 2230 hours. It's no surprise that frontman Mikel Jollett has done some time in music journalism himself -- where else do you think he'd learn to give quote like this?

       

DCist music editor Amanda Mattos once said that the term 'local band' "usually softens up our critical senses." As long as a band stays local, that is 100 percent correct. But once a band starts to blow up on a national level, the term 'local show' takes on a different connotation entirely. There is a certain expectation that the local shows have more energetic crowds, cooler guest appearances and better performances all around. As such, every performance I've seen by The Black Lips since moving away from Atlanta has been inherently disappointing.

       

When Mehan Jayasuriya (and a few others of us from the music staff) saw Passion Pit at the Black Cat last week, he got to see a scenario when a new band can’t quite rise to the level of its own hype. The Pains of Being Pure At Heart were up against similar, if slightly less daunting odds. Much like Passion Pit, they have only been together for about two years and only have a handful of songs but have received widespread blogger approval, including big ups from that music reviewing monolith based out of Chicago. Granted, The Pains of Being Pure at Heart only had to rise to the task of impressing a sold-out Backstage crowd, and after having toured with indie rock mainstays The Wedding Present, their exuberance seemed a little more polished.

    

Hype can be a cruel mistress. Sure, hype is often credited when young bands get noticed and signed. But hype also brings with it a host of undesirable friends, not the least of which are expectations. While many a career has been launched by hype, just as many careers have been crushed under its weight.

Windy City pride was on full display pretty much everywhere this weekend, but it was perhaps no more rampant than at the Big Shoulders Ball, hosted jointly by the Hideout nightclub in Chicago and the Black Cat, benefitting the Future of Music Coalition. At the top of the bill were some big names like Andrew Bird and Ted Leo, and some legendary Chi-town music scene vets, like Eleventh Dream Day and the Waco Brothers.

After the Washington City Paper acknowledged the Black Cat near the top of the pack in its 2008 best-of category for dance clubs — right up there with monosyllabic sweat-halls Town and Love — the Cat had a crisis of conscience. For some time now, most Friday and Saturday nights have been guaranteed to be themed dance nights with names like Mousetrap, Bliss, Homo/Sonic, Cryfest, and CATatonia. That means choice weekend slots not reserved for acts like Edie Sedgwick, Civilians, Buildings, Medications, Equinox — District rock 'n' roll groups. Could the Cat spare a little change for D.C. bands?

       

On most nights, upon walking through the double doors on the Black Cat's second floor, it's immediately obvious what type of show is going on, judging only by the sort of people who show up. Punk rockers. Hip-hop heads. Indie rockers. Electro kids. Had you walked into the Black Cat on Wednesday night, however, you might have thought that there were four shows going on all at once. That's because Diplo's Mad Descent tour was rolling through town, bringing with it L.A. punk darlings No Age and Abe Vigoda, Brooklyn tribal experimentalists Telepathe, London electro act Boy 8 Bit and of course, the man himself, legendary Philly DJ Diplo.

George Wildman Ball hit the nail on the head when he said bluntly, "Nostalgia is a seductive liar." While that may be true, it does not mean that the “seductive liar” cannot be a powerful creative force. Take Anthony Gonzalez (a.k.a. M83), for example. The Frenchman has mined the sounds and styles of his formative teenage years to great effect. In an interview with Spinner, Gonzalez reflects, "I don't know why I'm fascinated with this period of my life…I discovered so many things like new music, new movies, my best friends. Also, [I had] my first encounters with drugs and my first experience with sex. For everybody, being a teenager is one of the most important periods of life."

Written by DCist contributor Dave Weigel

              

It's not terribly clear that Deerhunter's decision to play D.C. on election night was a good one. Oh sure, once the show ended, the Atlanta quintet (of very vocal Obama supporters) had the opportunity to partake in the historic celebrations invading U Street just like the rest of the city. But unlike their visit to the Black Cat Backstage last year, the audience had ample breathing room and filled up maybe a third of the Mainstage floor. It seems the band did themselves a disservice by scheduling a show on a night many of the people drooling over last month's Kranky release, Microcastle, had more pressing things on their mind.

      

Usually, when we turn up for a show at the Black Cat's backstage, we expect a relatively subdued affair. The smaller of the club's two stages, the backstage usually hosts smaller, lesser known acts--bands who haven't yet built a large or fervent enough fan base to fuel a raucous mainstage set. Thursday night, however, proved to be an exception to this rule. While both of the night's performers are relative unknowns in these parts, that didn't stop them from turning the backstage's tight quarters into a massive pogo pit.

       

Lykke Li (pronounced, roughly, luke-uh-lee) is the stage name for the pixie-voiced Swedish songstress Li Lykke Timotej Zachrisson. She started gaining some traction in the states by overstating her fame back in Sweden to promoters in Brooklyn, in order to book gigs. That lead to her dance-friendly debut album, Youth Novels, which made fans all over the place with its collection of sad sad songs dressed up as friendly pop numbers. I first fell in love with Lykke Li by watching her videos — all dark and full of incredible dancing and ideas that go beyond what most everyone else is doing. So it was with intense anticipation that I went to the Black Cat on Sunday night to see her for the first time in person. The show exceeded my expectations, over and over again.