Carnivores are my new favorite local band. After rising from
the ashes of the now-defunct Chainestereo, they’ve re-formed with renewed vigor
and have plenty to show for it. Tuesday at 529, the group pulled about half the
set from its surprisingly awesome debut LP, All
Night Dead USA (released locally this July on Double Phantom Records), but
the other half was newer material the band hasn’t yet recorded (or stuff I just
didn’t recognize). Of the familiar numbers, “A Crime” of course stood out; it’s
the quartet’s single, and it has the potential to endear them to anyone with an
ear for retro pop and a heart for psych-punk.
Bassist Philip Frobos and guitarist Nathaniel Higgins alternate
lead singing duties on most of the songs, but the real treat comes when
keyboardist Caitlin Lang takes the mic, as she did for the set’s final
selection. While the whole band exudes palpable charm (not to mention seemingly
haphazardly executed skill), Lang’s unassuming attitude and blissfully violent
delivery endear her the most. When mixed with Higgins’ echoed-out, ambient
guitar tones, drummer Tauseef Anam’s grooving, manic drumming and Frobos’
kinetic, winning bass lines, Carnivores’ show becomes harder to pass up each
time.
Second on the bill was the
the midst of a lengthy
tour and looking a little the worse for wear, they treated the now full room to
some pretty facile pop-punk. The set gained steam as it went along, though, and
by the end, the room was dancing and the band seemed to reach full speed. But
the tempo and volume stayed the same the whole time; compared to what had
preceded them and what was to come, Lovvers just weren’t cerebral enough to
inspire devotion.
Then it was time. After a long, semi-hostile sound check
(with aggravated “I need…” phrases versus polite “can I get…” phrases),
Philadelphia’s Kurt Vile took the stage looking every part the awkward
troubadour he’s purported to be. His face perpetually hidden by his hunched
stance and fluffy mane, he played material off both this year’s Matador release
Childish Prodigy and his 2008
breakthrough Constant Hitmaker.
Vile’s wary-looking band (of which you’re ostensibly not allowed to be a member
without a prodigious head of hair) did an admirable job turning bedroom beats
and intimate recorded guitar into a true, live wall of sound. No one played
bass (they often had three guitars going at once), but one of the guitarists
worked a multitude of pedals and switches to complement his strumming, and the
other switched between guitar, saxophone (for the gloriously cacophonous “Freak
Train”) and—adorably—harmonica (Constant
Hitmaker’s addictive leadoff “Freeway”). The drummer even frequently played
over a beat machine wearing massive headphones so he could hear it, and, on
“Breathin Out Slow,” tapped his toms with a maraca.
Vile’s set seemed bipolar, the loud numbers compelling
explorations of one musical melody repeating, layered, as always, with his incisive
lyrics. They were lovely. But when The Violators left the stage, when only Vile
himself remained with his cranked-up acoustic and a microphone, that was when
his real personality emerged. He played the intimate songs with echoing vocal
reverence and guitar fingerpicking the likes of which a world champion banjo
player at a bluegrass competition would be proud. Vile, it seems, is a prodigy
indeed.
