Subtle @ Neumo’s
We managed to show up a bit late for this show on Tuesday, and only caught the last bit of Jel’s opening set. Which is a damn shame, since Jel puts on a surprisingly engaging show. For those who haven’t seen him before, he basically performs his entire set on an MPC (a sampler/production workstation with 16 pressure sensitive pads, made famous by countless hip hop producers) and a handful of other simple gear, banging out beats live over some minimal pre-sequenced material. Just watching his hands float over those pads is more fun than a lot of rock bands these days. And it totally helps that the sound system in Neumo’s is nice and crisp, with some good floor-shaking bass.
Fog held down the middle slot of the set, with a sometimes raucous, sometimes delicate, always perplexing show. As a three piece live band, Andrew Broder’s Fog project explores the outer reaches of folk-influenced psychedelia, with a little bit of drum machine assistance. The audience didn’t seem to be too into them, at least from my vantage point in the balcony, despite the crazy performances (especially the bassist, who had no qualms about making bass-humping motions more at home at an 80s cock-rock revival).
Then, after a lengthy wait, the main event. Subtle took the stage, all dressed uniformly in bright red outfits, frontman Doseone decked out in an additional zebra-striped fur stole matching the striped heads and skulls in their backdrop and stage props. The lineup: Jel on MPC; an electric cellist; a drummer/guitarist/keyboardist; a man playing saxophone, bass clarinet, flute, recorder, and keyboards; and Doseone on keyboards and vocals. And what a fucking glorious racket they made! Each song was a crazy mishmash of electronic and organic elements, with sampled beats and acoustic drums competing to drive the song, while cello provided both low end and spacey textures. The break in “F.K.O. (Fuck Kelly Osbourne),” when the lead switched from guitar to frantically bowed cello totally brought the house down. Meanwhile, in between songs, Dose entertained with tales of his days in White Rap College, trading Steely Dan tapes on the internet. There was also some mention of cello-breaking, backdrop hanging, marble bust stealing exploits at a strip club earlier that evening, which may have been partially true. It’s hard to say.
A lovely, lovely night, altogether, even considering some of the chatty, pushy douchebags on the balcony with us. But I keep forgetting to try those amazing looking Belgian Fries at Frites, next door. Something to remember next time I’m at Neumo’s.
More later…
