I am well aware of the fact that it’s rare for me to simply gush about a band. I am often so full of critique that there isn’t a lot of room left for the good stuff. Except when there is. And how many times do I have to say that it’s all for the times when there is, that all of this becomes important. All of a sudden I’m reminded of why I’m here in the first place, and how incredibly obvious it is when music is great. Langhorne Slim and Two Gallants man, same show, my favorite venue, who could ask for more. If there were three bands i could name as my favorite new bands it’d be these two and one other (the Raconteurs). And tonight I had the pleasure of seeing both. So all I can do is gush.
Gush, gush, gush. Langhorne Slim works the stage like a superstar, which shocked me at first and then proceeded to entertain and magnify. His songs were much more impromptu, obviously without the studio tricks from the recorded side of things. They were faster, more energetic, and propelled partly by his distasteful facial expressions. Langhorne Slim – if that’s his real name – puts on quite an ugly face when he’s singing the more upsetting of songs. Like he’s tasted something so bitter that he’s trying to iron the taste out of his tongue, that’s what it feels like to watch him sing that stuff. And the joyousness of it all – gush, gush, gush. This guy has all the potential in the world, and how it unfolds will be a major part of my enjoyment of music in the upcoming years.
And Two Gallants, a band that hails from San Francisco and 1847, simultaneously. These guys are rock stars; they can growl and coo and serenade and screech with the best of ’em. They continue to compel me with their language and their solid grasp of why people listen to music: narrative stems from lyrics but also speed and dynamics an instrumentation, and for that I feel they are extraordinarily unique. Gush, gush, gush.
Gush, gush. Sometimes there is nothing but greatness. Thank god it is this rare to find such amazing talent; otherwise i would be exhausted with too much life. Rather, I welcome this kind of evening where you just feel the sense of purpose through the work that the show itself does for the audience, and those on stage as well. When it intuitively fits into your perspective of things, you can’t help but remain completely astounded. Christgau once said that after the best shows, “you walk home prepared to live forever.” Yes, gush.