Grizzly Bear, Fillmore 6.22.09

Pictures first, words later.

Grizzly Bear’s “Swarovskis.”  The band personally hand strung each crystal (certified Swarovski) with fishing line.  Soothe.

The complete display

For the last three or so songs of the night I went up in the backstage balcony.  I love the way the crystals are growing out of Bear’s head.  It’s like a mash-up of Encyclopedia Pictura’s and Patrick Daughters‘ videos for Grizzly Bear–crystals and wild things coming out of the band’s heads!  Here’s more:

I love it when Taylor plays the clarinet:

They did a really special acoustic encore:

San Francisco audiences are really soothed by Grizzly Bear.

Above are some of the wild spirits in the front row.  It’s great to check out the audience.  The previous night, I spotted one of the guys who works at the bookstore around the corner from my house (Diesel) about three bodies from the front of the stage.  Last night my favorite fan was this guy in the headband.  I think the band should put him in the artwork for their next album.  Once, a picture of my friend Emily of Wild Life in the audience of a Sonic Youth show ended up on the inside of their next album.  That was pretty cool.

After the show, the wild spirits from Here We Go Magic hosted a drum circle.  Everyone was dancing like Kokopelli.  It was super San Francisco.  Raymond, one of the kind gentlemen on staff at the Fillmore said that he felt that we were bringing back the true spirit of the Fillmore from the glory days.

We ended up in the lobby of the Hotel Nikko with these really wild light fixtures and a grand piano.  Dan jammed out on some Doobie Brothers and we all sang along until we were kindly asked to retire.

Find Patrick Daughters online here.

Find Encyclopedia Pictura online here.

Grizzly Bear, Fillmore 6.21.09

I’ve started writing something about Grizzly Bear in this window six or so times now.  I’m vacillating.  “Grizzly Bear played at truly great show last night.”  “I’ve seen Grizzly Bear play many, many times.”  “I couldn’t count how many times I’ve seen Grizzly Bear if I were asked.”  I’m wondering what the value is of lauding these people publicly.  Music writing.  Such a load.  This isn’t a story about Grizzly Bear.  It’s a story about me.

Pre-show at Absinthe.  Above, the “21 Hayes.”

the “Nouveau Carré”

loading in

Soundcheck

Bear gets ready to take flight in response to something Simon said

Taylor watches

Dan in the mist

At this point I left to eat some Vietnamese food in the Mission with some very nice, very well-educated people.  In spite of my desire to honor Edward Droste’s love of Pho, I at the clay pot fish.  I can’t help it.  I just love it.

I’m pretty sure this picture was taken during Lullaby, one of my all-time favorite Grizzly Bear songs.  When I watched the show (from the middle-middle where the sound is the best), and actually when I watch almost any Grizzly Bear show, I can’t help but get emotional.  While I’d love to be able to avoid sarcasm, I can’t help but add that this sentiment of mine surely isn’t unique judging by the crowd last night.  But I (again, like many others) feel like that emotion is mine only, and completely unique.  What is it about pop music that does this to us?  I’m sure if Timothy White (one of the greatest music writers of my time, I must say, since it doesn’t seem to say it anywhere else) were here, he could write much more eloquently on the subject.

But, in full disclosure (finally, though it must be somewhat obvious), I know these guys.  I “grew up” with them.  I watched them play Zebulon (seated, all jazz-like) in what? ’03? ’04?  Over the years, Grizzly Bear has become less a band and more a soundtrack for me (and us all?  and all music pop music is soundtrack?).  Each song denotes a different age, separation, or season.  The identification is intense, as are the memories.  Walking through Greenpoint in the snow, pining for lost carefree days in New York City, and finally realizing it’s not mine anymore.  I’m all grown up, for now.  But in a good way.

And so is Grizzly Bear.  These four, once a loose collection of three master instrumentalists and one vocal boss aren’t playing around any more, but they aren’t taking themselves too seriously either.  They are all constantly moving and stretching different ways; more rock, more psych, less self-obsessed, more self-disciplined, less noise, more sound, less harmony, more vocals.  And, slightly more rarely than when I was a New Yorker, I get to ride alongside of it all.  Being there; remembering when I was in Argentina, that I met someone who fixed it, that it’s my existential crisis–imagining myself on a ranch in the Rockies asking myself what now?  And that it’s my folk revival, that I see the unexpectedly lonely image of two dories.

Maybe that’s it.  That’s the beauty.  And if Grizzly Bear does all that, for me, and apparently so many others, who can find fault?

all grown up now

Where were you on Saturday night?

I was over the moon–figuratively.  Physically I was at the Brooklyn Academy of Music soaking in a rare coupling: Grizzly Bear and the Brooklyn Philharmonic.  The event marked Grizzly Bear’s first performance with an orchestra dedicated to performing alongside of the band (Grizzly Bear has previously shared a bill with the Los Angeles Philharmonic at Disney Hall).

Perhaps the most special parts of the evening for a longtime fan like myself were the songs Grizzly Bear played that they had never performed live before, but that I have savored for years on their albums; namely “Central and Remote,” “Reprise,” and “Plans” (all from Yellow House).  “Reprise” was particularly special, given the leading banjo, a fact which Daniel Rossen acknowledged from the stage.

I found “Colorado,” another longtime favorite, to be particularly successful with the orchestral backing.  It’s another that you’re not likely to hear the band perform regularly.

Of the new material from the upcoming release Veckatimest, “Foreground” was far and away my favorite, and the Brooklyn Phil did well by it too.

Then Grizzly Bear did something that I wouldn’t suspect given the tone of the evening; they closed the show with The Crystal’s foreboding “He Hit Me.”  I don’t think Edward Droste has found a better pairing for his vocals than this diminutive ditty.  It just works.  I was thrilled.

The boys were looking sharp: Daniel in shiny new shoes visible from row “S,” Christopher Bear in saddle shoes (!) and a handmade black silk bow tie by Julia Ziegler-Haynes, Edward sleek in black jeans and a crisp shirt, and Chris Taylor sporting a new shorter haircut.  They’re ready for the big time!

Related links of interest:

• Edward Droste’s Twitter with complete set list
• A bootlegged video of the entire show
• The New York Times wrote a favorable review
• Brooklyn Vegan: mediocre/non-existent writing, lots of nice pics (can you tell BV doesn’t soothe me?!)
• Kudos for the boys from Entertainment Weekly
• A fabulous review for Grizzly Bear that is also generally on point in its description of the evening overall at the Village Voice’s Sound of the City blog

WOW! I’m all atwitter!

I’m absolutely atwitter about the new Grizzly Bear album!  I even have tickets to their show on 2/29 with the Brooklyn Philharmonic at BAM!  With contributions from some of my favorite femme fatales like Feist and Victoria LeGrand, this album is sure to soothe to new heights.

Stereogum is close on the bear trail.  Here are some fun pics of the boys doing the mix:

Will May ever come?  I just can’t wait!

Department of Eagles@Cafe du Nord

I caught Department of Eagle’s late show at Cafe du Nord last night–such a big treat.  DOE’s descent on the city was like the parting of the clouds in the midst of the darkness of January.   

Cafe du Nord runs that fine line between a romantic old world establishment and dive-y underground club, which made it perfect for Department of Eagles. 

Department of Eagles’ performance, enhanced by bassist Matt Million and Christopher Bear, was absolutely mysterical.