Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin/Catfish Haven Second Story, Bloomington 2.2.2006

Brought together through Myspace communication, the Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin/Catfish Haven tour began in earnest last night in Bloomington. Catfish bassist (and marathonpacks reader!?) Miguel explained to me that the pairing should work nicely, with both bands currently reading magazines in the waiting room that is blog popularity—neither is big enough to play on Conan yet, but it’s probably just a matter of time.

One of my pre-show interests was if the thin, shuffling power-pop of SSLYBY, who specialize in keen songs that seem to emanate from the business end of awkward relationships, would translate well to a live venue, especially during the first show of a tour. I imagined them as distant and moody, clicking through songs and leaving without saying bye. As usual, I overanalyzed—they sounded great, and as could probably be expected, the live setting allowed their music to move around and create the attractive racket disallowed by the limits of small recording budgets. On record, the drums are sharp and tight and way forward in the mix, giving the music an early country flavor. Live, though, the drums are farther back, though still potent, and the bass/synth interplay allows some brief glimpses of punk. They weren’t afraid to engage in a bit of showmanship, too, but of the practical kind---the drummer, who co-writes the songs, took over sing/guitar duties halfway through the set, moving everyone else over a spot.

Someone Still Loves You Boris Yeltsin "Pangea" (mp3)

The night belonged to Catfish Haven, though—recent signees to Secretly Canadian, they were selling freshly pressed copies of their debut EP, which is full of floorstomping swampy blues-rock. They’re grittier and more authentic than Kings of Leon, and the raw emotion of lead vocalist George Hunter separates them from the Black Keys, especially on the electrifying screamer "Please Come Back" (mp3), from which the EP takes its name. It’s a timeless type of rock song: pure, unironic soulful emotion with a pummeling rhythm section—equally inspired by Stax/Volt and early Allman Brothers. Naturally, this is the type of music meant to be played live, and they tore through their set with the zeal of a tight band that can feel what they’re doing to the crowd. Ryan from the always excellent Muzzle of Bees, who turned me (and many others) on to the band, has an interview here.

(As is probably evident, I fell in love with a certain camera angle. I don't necessarily like taking pictures during shows, but feel somewhat obligated to.)