Spoon, The Bluebird, 3.6.07

Nothing huge to report here, really—a typically solid show from one of the 4 or 5 best touring bands in existence, even though they seem to change lineups every other tour. The Daniel/Eno connection still provides the backbone, and my direct namesake Eric Harvey (whose presence on Gimme Fiction allows me to lie and say I’m in a band—just look at the liners, bro), holds down the keys (or perhaps, “keybs”) and occasional tambourine flourish, but they’ve got a new bassist now.

The show was kept largely hidden from view by the Bluebird, who decided to only promote it via flyers around town, a tactic which became clear when I discovered that it was a Jack Daniels promotional thing. Basically, it seems like a sweet deal for the band, who probably got a flat fee for their appearance—no doubt a warmup for SXSW—and played to a house sauced on 5 dollar plastic cups of J and C, heavy on the C. They’d been dormant for about 6 months working on the new record, and showed the fruits of part of their labor.

The setlist was typical, but the fun part was comparing the two new songs—the next album’s “Sister Jack” and “I Summon You” for pre-release accessibility—with their rawer performances at last year’s Pitchfork Festival. First up was “Target,” or “Don’t Make Me A Target,” the latter of which would make a great, if not pathetic, theme song for a Super K-Mart going out of business. The first half of the song was sharper (and not dulled by the excess atmosphere of Union Park) than last summer, a passionate, nearly-bluesy Elvis Costello howl in full effect. The best and newest part of the song, though, was the mid-song break, a staggered, precise sub-minute flailing that segued right back into the refrain and made the first part seem more complete by association. The other new song is either titled “Whither the Soul” or “Rhythm and Soul,” or maybe “Zither and Mole” for all I know. It sounds much less complete than “Target,” but intriguing nonetheless. It’s comprised of 6 or 7 moveable parts, with jagged rhythms and complicated changes battling one another for recognition. Daniel made a rare comment after the song that it was indeed “hard.”

One not-new song played was “Me and the Bean” (mp3) from Girls Can Tell, a song that in 2001 found Daniel striking a balance between his rawer early material (Series of Sneaks, the mostly disowned Telephono) and his newfound appreciation for piano pop. The first verse is a near-clunker, sounding like something he wrote in high school, but it leads to the wordless refrain, a rubbery left-hand piano run that set the template for what most consider the band’s archetypical sound. The John Lennon lyrical cop (from “Remember”, the only good song on Plastic Ono Band btw) is overt and meaningful, but for some reason it’s the line “I have your blood inside my heart” that kills me every time. And of course, the lead break in the middle, breaking the song down to just the bass, then rising slowly back up with guitar and piano, then triumphantly pounding its way back.