The Fiery Furnaces, with Grand Ole Party and El Ten Eleven
Wednesday, 6/11/08
Record Bar
Better than: A friendly fist bump
By RICHARD GINTOWT
There are all kinds of ways to get off on the wrong foot with the Fiery Furnaces. If – like me – your first real impression of the band was Rehearsing My Choir (a 2005 concept album narrated by their grandmother), you may not have the entire picture. The paternal duo of Matthew and Eleanor Friedberger reveals more of themselves with each album and tour, seemingly taking a perverted pleasure in messing with their audience’s expectations.
Last night’s performance at the Record Bar was the closest thing to vintage Fiery Furnaces that exists: a totally absorbing, fucked-up amalgam of inspiration and perspiration.
Setting the stage was El Ten Eleven, an awesome instrumental duo from Los Angeles that loops up tricked-out bass riffs into dance grooves reminiscent of Daft Punk and LCD Soundsystem.
If you’ve ever wanted to see a guy play harmonics on a fretless bass without missing a note or play the shit out of a two-necked bassitar, Kristian Dunn is your new hero. Looping has practically become a genre in itself, but few bands do it so well, i.e. not sacrificing interesting arrangements and changes.
The crowd built steadily throughout El Ten Eleven’s performance, and had it been a bit later in the evening, they would have been dancing their asses off.
Next up was Grand Ole Party, a hard-touring trio I’ve been meaning to catch for quite some time. The obvious draw here is a badass drummer-singer chick with a headset mic and a voice as huge as her oversized tom-toms (I’m talking about her drum set, you pervs).
But there’s just as much showmanship in the nasty rock-&-soul grooves laid down by guitarist John Paul Labno and bassist Michael Krechnyak. Kristin Gundred’s oversized holler begs comparisons to the Yeah Yeah Yeahs, but it’s really in a class of its own. The only downside to Gundred’s role in the band is that audiences in the back can’t see the faces she makes, which alternately say “I fucking mean it” and “I will rock this shit so hard that your face will turn to jelly.”
With two stellar openers having had their turns, the packed house was suitably lubed up for the Fiery Furnaces. The group is currently touring as a five-piece with guitarist Jason Loewenstein (of Sedaboh), drummer Bob D’Amico and a keyboardist who may or may not have been Kyle Hollingsworth. They’re supporting Remember, a massive 52-song live collection that showcases the band’s creative revisions of its five-album catalog. Few bands go to such lengths to keep things fresh, much less execute new versions of songs that trump the originals.
The Fiery Furnaces’ stage show is one of a kind: a rapid-fire parade of hits with hooks seemingly disappearing the moment they arrive. It works because there are hundreds of inspired moments crammed therein, and Eleanor delivers the whole thing with commendable aplomb.
Loewenstein and D’Amico are a huge asset to what I imagine is their most challenging endeavor to date. Then there’s Matthew, hunched over his arsenal of vintage keyboards like a rogue organist from a traveling show. The audience devoured it all with a level of attentiveness rarely witnessed at the Record Bar or similar venues.
With no preconceptions going into this show, I have to say I was pleasantly sideswiped. Now comes the fun part: delving into all three bands’ recorded catalogs.
Critic’s Notebook
Personal Bias: I can be a bit jittery when it comes to any music perceived as “avant-garde.” Fortunately, the Fiery Furnaces are actually “avant-awesome.”
Random detail: Tote bags are the new band t-shirts. “Dude, chicks totes love totes.”
By the way: El Ten Eleven said they’d be back in the fall. Keep an open eye and let’s make it a ragin’ dance party.
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