Concert Report: Believers Never Die, Part Deux, Portland, OR 4/9/2009
Concert Report: Believers Never Die, Part Deux
Portland Expo Center, April 9, 2009
Warning: This review contains spoilers, especially for FOB’s set. It does not contain neat pictures or video like other reviews I’ve seen. It also is highly subjective: it’s as much about my experience of the show as it is about the bands. So, you’ve been warned.
Bands in performance order:
Hey, Monday
All Time Low
Cobra Starship
Metro Station
Fall Out Boy
A friend of mine, who doesn’t know these bands, came with me to the show. I gave her a short briefing on the basics of Cobra Starship and Fall Out Boy (“when they say ‘fangs up’, put your hands like this” “get ready to shout ‘detox just to retox’” and etc.).
“And there’s some other band,” I told her, “Metro Center? Subway Station? Something like that. I’ve never heard of them.”
Actually, there were four other bands. I was not prepared for how long the evening would be. We came late, and Hey Monday had already started. Because of internet happenstance, I had seen a Hey Monday video only the day before, so I recognized who they were and could actually sing along on that one song with all the whoa-ohs in it. It was fun, and Cassadee has a great voice and a lot of stage presence. (And she is a woman! She gets extra gold stars in my book for this, because there are not enough women in this music scene.)
All Time Low was, sadly, the evening’s all time low. They came across as really young-like, teenage boy humor in the between-songs chatter that was just unappealing to me. unaccompanied_g posted a picture of their set (in a review of their show in Sacramento) where they had the words “Muff Dive” written in tape on their speakers, which about sums it up. When they talked and played, they sounded like a band who would think something like that was cool. Also, it was listening to their songs that made me remember this was a pop show-not pop-punk, not indie, not anything else, just pop. And I remembered why I don’t usually like pop; it all starts to blur together and sound the same after a while.
The one memorable part of All Time Low’s set was when the lead singer told the crowd, “Show me how you dance.” He said it in a sexy, come-on type of way, and that was awesome. That’s what good audience rapport is about-having the cool people (on stage) make you feel like what you have to offer (your stupid dancing) is somehow cool too.
Cobra Starship was awesome. Their set was too short. I could’ve done with at least 3 more songs from them. Gabe Saporta was goofy and charming, in all his gangly, long-limbed, stupid sunglass-ed glory. In counterpoint, Vicky T was suave and collected, quiet in affect in a way that made her seem . . . I don’t know, mysterious or something. And beautiful enough to make me weak in the knees. Her hair was cut in this cute, short bob and she had a little flower in it.
“She’s one of the few women in bandom,” I explained to my poor patient friend, clutching pathetically at her arm in my excitement, “AND NOW I HAVE SEEN HER.”
Then came Metro Station. Based on crowd excitement (and the t-shirts I saw) half the people could’ve been there for them only. Trace Cyrus reminded me of Mick Jagger, what with all the skinny and lips and such. He kept unbuttoning his shirt, and took it off by the end, which, combined with his low-riding jeans, showed me way more of his body than I needed to see. Aargh. The other singer, Mason Musso, was a surprisingly different story. He did nothing that grossed me out, stayed focused on singing, and never seemed to be trying too hard. (Sidenote: he was also completely beautiful, imho, in a way that reminded me of Gerard Way: diamond-shaped face, bright, starry eyes. Nngh.)
Metro Station's music was . . . I don’t know. Very pop, very synthesized in a way that seemed weirdly anachronistic, like they were imitating Depeche Mode by accident or something. Why did Metro Station and their double-tiered stand of keyboards hit my “too 80s” button, when Vicky T’s key-tar didn’t? I can’t tell you, but that’s how it was.
I have to be honest: Metro Station and All Time Low were at a disadvantage with me, simply because I didn’t have any previous experience of them or their music. There could have been a lot of beauty going on there that I was oblivious to. No one reading this should judge them based on what I say here. (But while we’re on the topic, is “Seventeen Forever” a song about statutory rape, or what? I’m just asking. Also, this YouTube video is a good overview of Metro Station basics: Trace Cyrus looking like a pastiche of other celebrities--Mick Jagger, Steven Tyler, Marilyn Manson, etc.; Mason Musso looking utterly adorable, even though he has different hair now, Blake Healy bent lovingly over a keyboard creating these outer-space sound effects.)
The bands had good camaraderie. My friend nailed it-she said watching the bands together, how they each talked about each other and came out to sing in each other’s songs, was like seeing a family circus act. (We had been talking about how Pete Wentz and Decaydance are really taking on the role of Godfather of Young Bands.)
And then came Fall Out Boy. The set opened with lots of video on the odd-shaped array of panel-screens that were on either side of the drum riser. I stood on my tip-toes to try and catch as much of it as I could over the tops of people’s heads. This was the really political part of the show-documentary-type images of overcrowded housing in underdeveloped areas and US big-money people dodging interviewers, intercut with text about how the world’s resources are distributed unfairly and power is concentrated in the hands of a very few. “We can change this,” the text concluded, “We can shine a spotlight on it.”
Then, over the massive, earth-shaking sound system that had been eating away at my hearing all evening, came the first light strains of Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes, and the line that breaks my heart every time I hear it-“Doc, there’s a hole where something was . . .”
When the beat kicked in, people in full riot gear and masks marched onto the stage, wearing marching drums. It was eerie to see them beating the drums in mechanical rhythm when you couldn’t see their faces. They were followed by Fall Out Boy in grey suits, ties, and white-collared shirts, with the marks of makeup violence on their faces. Pete’s black eye looked very convincing. (My friend tugged on my coat-sleeve. “Is that real?” she asked.)
(Slightly Annotated) Set list for Fall Out Boy:
1. Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes
It came too soon. I wanted to yell “detox just to retox” with a crowd around me that I had some feel for, a crowd that had gelled, not one that was just figuring out the show was starting.
2. ???
3. A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me
4. Sugar, We’re Going Down
I found it weird for this song to be in the “corporate sellout” part of their set, since-am I wrong?-it represents the height of their own commercial success. It was too much irony.
During this part of the set, I couldn’t let go of the worry that Patrick’s awful hairpiece would fall off-you could tell he was uncomfortable in it; he kept touching the edges, his forehead and above his ears, tentatively between every song. It was sweet but also cringe-y.
-costume change out of MV&P suits and into their normal hipster clothes-
5. This Ain’t A Scene, It’s an Arms Race
6. I Don’t Care
Loud and cool, but with extravagant light and effects. Have epilepsy or vertigo? Watch out for this song. I had to elbow my way out of the crowd and lean against the barriers on the side with my eyes shut til it was over.
7. Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet
Very sexy live.
8. I Slept With Someone in FOB . . .
Awesomely vicious live. I enjoyed yelling “Can’t cover it up!!” with a crowd.
9. Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy
10. What a Catch, Donnie
Pete said “Now we’re gonna slow it down,” like an apology, but this was one of the more beautiful moments of the concert. Patrick’s voice just soared.
11. (Coffee’s for Closers)
I admit it; I am a hopeless sucker for anything containing the word “change.” Hence, I was beside myself for this song. I waved my camera with everyone, took a picture of the crowd, and imagined that we would be some of the ones who would help change things. Is that naïve?
12. ???
13. She’s My Winona
14. Beat It
15. America’s Suitehearts
-encores-
16. Thanks fr th Mmrs
17. Dance, Dance
18. Saturday
At the very end, Pete did this thing where he went out into the crowd. It was beautiful-“a very pure rockstar moment,” my friend said later. Everyone reached their hands up toward him. I saw him move toward the edge of the stage, and there was a split second where I almost took off through the crowd, abandoning my poor friend completely, just for the chance of being one of those hands. For me, seeing him do that was the most touching moment of the whole evening. I’ll have more to say about it in another post.
Opinions have varied on FOB’s political message, especially on how hard it comes across on the tour. My friend and I were arguing about it a little on the way home-is it weird/hypocritical/stupid/useless for FOB to try to convey this political message?
Here’s my opinion:
What do you all think?
Finally, I couldn’t feel the vibe of the crowd. If anyone reads this who was also at the Portland show, tell me your opinion-was the crowd’s energy good? I didn’t get too far into the pit, so maybe that’s why I couldn’t feel it very well.
Portland Expo Center, April 9, 2009
Warning: This review contains spoilers, especially for FOB’s set. It does not contain neat pictures or video like other reviews I’ve seen. It also is highly subjective: it’s as much about my experience of the show as it is about the bands. So, you’ve been warned.
Bands in performance order:
Hey, Monday
All Time Low
Cobra Starship
Metro Station
Fall Out Boy
A friend of mine, who doesn’t know these bands, came with me to the show. I gave her a short briefing on the basics of Cobra Starship and Fall Out Boy (“when they say ‘fangs up’, put your hands like this” “get ready to shout ‘detox just to retox’” and etc.).
“And there’s some other band,” I told her, “Metro Center? Subway Station? Something like that. I’ve never heard of them.”
Actually, there were four other bands. I was not prepared for how long the evening would be. We came late, and Hey Monday had already started. Because of internet happenstance, I had seen a Hey Monday video only the day before, so I recognized who they were and could actually sing along on that one song with all the whoa-ohs in it. It was fun, and Cassadee has a great voice and a lot of stage presence. (And she is a woman! She gets extra gold stars in my book for this, because there are not enough women in this music scene.)
All Time Low was, sadly, the evening’s all time low. They came across as really young-like, teenage boy humor in the between-songs chatter that was just unappealing to me. unaccompanied_g posted a picture of their set (in a review of their show in Sacramento) where they had the words “Muff Dive” written in tape on their speakers, which about sums it up. When they talked and played, they sounded like a band who would think something like that was cool. Also, it was listening to their songs that made me remember this was a pop show-not pop-punk, not indie, not anything else, just pop. And I remembered why I don’t usually like pop; it all starts to blur together and sound the same after a while.
The one memorable part of All Time Low’s set was when the lead singer told the crowd, “Show me how you dance.” He said it in a sexy, come-on type of way, and that was awesome. That’s what good audience rapport is about-having the cool people (on stage) make you feel like what you have to offer (your stupid dancing) is somehow cool too.
Cobra Starship was awesome. Their set was too short. I could’ve done with at least 3 more songs from them. Gabe Saporta was goofy and charming, in all his gangly, long-limbed, stupid sunglass-ed glory. In counterpoint, Vicky T was suave and collected, quiet in affect in a way that made her seem . . . I don’t know, mysterious or something. And beautiful enough to make me weak in the knees. Her hair was cut in this cute, short bob and she had a little flower in it.
“She’s one of the few women in bandom,” I explained to my poor patient friend, clutching pathetically at her arm in my excitement, “AND NOW I HAVE SEEN HER.”
Then came Metro Station. Based on crowd excitement (and the t-shirts I saw) half the people could’ve been there for them only. Trace Cyrus reminded me of Mick Jagger, what with all the skinny and lips and such. He kept unbuttoning his shirt, and took it off by the end, which, combined with his low-riding jeans, showed me way more of his body than I needed to see. Aargh. The other singer, Mason Musso, was a surprisingly different story. He did nothing that grossed me out, stayed focused on singing, and never seemed to be trying too hard. (Sidenote: he was also completely beautiful, imho, in a way that reminded me of Gerard Way: diamond-shaped face, bright, starry eyes. Nngh.)
Metro Station's music was . . . I don’t know. Very pop, very synthesized in a way that seemed weirdly anachronistic, like they were imitating Depeche Mode by accident or something. Why did Metro Station and their double-tiered stand of keyboards hit my “too 80s” button, when Vicky T’s key-tar didn’t? I can’t tell you, but that’s how it was.
I have to be honest: Metro Station and All Time Low were at a disadvantage with me, simply because I didn’t have any previous experience of them or their music. There could have been a lot of beauty going on there that I was oblivious to. No one reading this should judge them based on what I say here. (But while we’re on the topic, is “Seventeen Forever” a song about statutory rape, or what? I’m just asking. Also, this YouTube video is a good overview of Metro Station basics: Trace Cyrus looking like a pastiche of other celebrities--Mick Jagger, Steven Tyler, Marilyn Manson, etc.; Mason Musso looking utterly adorable, even though he has different hair now, Blake Healy bent lovingly over a keyboard creating these outer-space sound effects.)
The bands had good camaraderie. My friend nailed it-she said watching the bands together, how they each talked about each other and came out to sing in each other’s songs, was like seeing a family circus act. (We had been talking about how Pete Wentz and Decaydance are really taking on the role of Godfather of Young Bands.)
And then came Fall Out Boy. The set opened with lots of video on the odd-shaped array of panel-screens that were on either side of the drum riser. I stood on my tip-toes to try and catch as much of it as I could over the tops of people’s heads. This was the really political part of the show-documentary-type images of overcrowded housing in underdeveloped areas and US big-money people dodging interviewers, intercut with text about how the world’s resources are distributed unfairly and power is concentrated in the hands of a very few. “We can change this,” the text concluded, “We can shine a spotlight on it.”
Then, over the massive, earth-shaking sound system that had been eating away at my hearing all evening, came the first light strains of Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes, and the line that breaks my heart every time I hear it-“Doc, there’s a hole where something was . . .”
When the beat kicked in, people in full riot gear and masks marched onto the stage, wearing marching drums. It was eerie to see them beating the drums in mechanical rhythm when you couldn’t see their faces. They were followed by Fall Out Boy in grey suits, ties, and white-collared shirts, with the marks of makeup violence on their faces. Pete’s black eye looked very convincing. (My friend tugged on my coat-sleeve. “Is that real?” she asked.)
(Slightly Annotated) Set list for Fall Out Boy:
1. Disloyal Order of Water Buffaloes
It came too soon. I wanted to yell “detox just to retox” with a crowd around me that I had some feel for, a crowd that had gelled, not one that was just figuring out the show was starting.
2. ???
3. A Little Less Sixteen Candles, A Little More Touch Me
4. Sugar, We’re Going Down
I found it weird for this song to be in the “corporate sellout” part of their set, since-am I wrong?-it represents the height of their own commercial success. It was too much irony.
During this part of the set, I couldn’t let go of the worry that Patrick’s awful hairpiece would fall off-you could tell he was uncomfortable in it; he kept touching the edges, his forehead and above his ears, tentatively between every song. It was sweet but also cringe-y.
-costume change out of MV&P suits and into their normal hipster clothes-
5. This Ain’t A Scene, It’s an Arms Race
6. I Don’t Care
Loud and cool, but with extravagant light and effects. Have epilepsy or vertigo? Watch out for this song. I had to elbow my way out of the crowd and lean against the barriers on the side with my eyes shut til it was over.
7. Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet
Very sexy live.
8. I Slept With Someone in FOB . . .
Awesomely vicious live. I enjoyed yelling “Can’t cover it up!!” with a crowd.
9. Grand Theft Autumn/Where is Your Boy
10. What a Catch, Donnie
Pete said “Now we’re gonna slow it down,” like an apology, but this was one of the more beautiful moments of the concert. Patrick’s voice just soared.
11. (Coffee’s for Closers)
I admit it; I am a hopeless sucker for anything containing the word “change.” Hence, I was beside myself for this song. I waved my camera with everyone, took a picture of the crowd, and imagined that we would be some of the ones who would help change things. Is that naïve?
12. ???
13. She’s My Winona
14. Beat It
15. America’s Suitehearts
-encores-
16. Thanks fr th Mmrs
17. Dance, Dance
18. Saturday
At the very end, Pete did this thing where he went out into the crowd. It was beautiful-“a very pure rockstar moment,” my friend said later. Everyone reached their hands up toward him. I saw him move toward the edge of the stage, and there was a split second where I almost took off through the crowd, abandoning my poor friend completely, just for the chance of being one of those hands. For me, seeing him do that was the most touching moment of the whole evening. I’ll have more to say about it in another post.
Opinions have varied on FOB’s political message, especially on how hard it comes across on the tour. My friend and I were arguing about it a little on the way home-is it weird/hypocritical/stupid/useless for FOB to try to convey this political message?
Here’s my opinion:
- I don’t think it’s silly to be saying the things they are saying; I think they are right in their political analysis.
- I also don’t think it’s silly to be saying it “to teenagers.” What teenager doesn’t know in their bones that there’s something TERRIBLY WRONG with the world and its power structures? I knew this more poignantly when I was a teenager than at any other time in my life. And to have other voices confirm your suspicions, rather than treating you like you’re too young and therefore idealistic or “wrong” in some other way, is good.
- I was happy they ended with the idea of “shining a spotlight on [these political problems]”. For them to say more about what they intended to do would have rung a little false for me. (Not because they couldn’t do more, just because I don’t trust that they will.) At the same time, they are uniquely well-placed to do just that-to shine a spotlight, and help inform people. To have them take on that part of the political fight fits. They have a huge audience already, and to use it to talk about something other than romance and celebrity, well, that’s fine by me. And if they go on to, somehow, do more than talk, that’s great too. Does Pete Wentz want to become another Bono? There are worse aspirations to have.
What do you all think?
Finally, I couldn’t feel the vibe of the crowd. If anyone reads this who was also at the Portland show, tell me your opinion-was the crowd’s energy good? I didn’t get too far into the pit, so maybe that’s why I couldn’t feel it very well.