By HUGH WELSH
In the three hours leading up to the featured act this past Friday night, there were fumes spewing from the Uptown Theater - like a long-dormant volcano set to erupt. It was Flee the Seen's final concert, and Flee the Seen has a fan base as hardcore as its music.
"I've been reading all day," said concertgoer Brian Killman, his goatee a thicket mussed with jet fuel. "I was trying to build up a surplus of brain cells."
By the end, Killman's surplus was no doubt a deficit, following the five-part headbanging melee that began with a Blue Springs band called Snake Eater and ended with one of KC's most kickass ensembles.
Sporting third-grade haircuts and as much facial hair as unmarried Mormons, Snake Eater quickly let it be known they weren't the purring opening act their appearances suggested.
"Motherfuckers, you ready to rock?" spat lead vocalist Chris Wood, spinning around to reveal the words on his T-shirt: Awaken hope within hatred. Snake Eaters' set unfolded with the eloquence of overcaffeinated cave dwellers, Wood unleashing a cascade of curse words smattered with incomprehensible lyrics.
Following Snake Eater, attendees in need of a stiff drink were welcomed into the fold by Now Now Sleepyhead, an ensemble anchored by Flee the Seen's Aaron Crawford on drums. A blend of bop and psychomania, Now Now Sleepyhead was a level-headed precursor to Crawford's later antics, his oversize hair - for now - clamped into a pony tail.
The Architects, of Kansas City, were the next group to occupy the main stage. Universally admired by the headliner (Flee the Seen's vocalist Kim Anderson calls them "an inspiration"), the Architects released a rush of sweet-toothed guitar riffs intermingled with cymbal clashing and breathless vocals that rained down in flurries. In-between each song, while the rest of his bandmates reeled back for throatfuls of beer, lead singer and guitarist Brandon Phillips swept sweat from his brow and flung it at a row of older blondes near the stage who were as boozy as a bunch of sorority brats.
Next up, ushered by a waterfall of $500 play bills and balloons, were the Spaceballerz, a crew all about cosmic pimpin' and interstellar lovin'. The Spaceballerz's act ended with The Yo-Yo Guy, a felt-hatted fellow who whirled his namesake toy like a Martian hell-bent on world destruction. Their parting words: "You've been spaceball bitch slapped!"
After a rip-roaring performance by the Forecast - a popular Peoria, Ill.-based band well-acquainted with Flee the Seen - the lights darkened.
A spotlight was cast on R.L. Brooks, Flee the Seen's guitarist and backup singer-screamer. His guitar solo was the overture. He was joined by Manuel Sanchez on guitar, Luke Dills on bass and, finally, the ever-heavy-hitting Crawford on drums.
Then entered that teeth-gritting damsel, Kim Anderson, who seized the mic and belted out a rendition of "Wire Tap Out" so frantic the crowd ruptured into a roiling sea.
Over the course of their one-hour last act, Flee the Seen traced the trajectory of their output, from beginnings, to their only full-length record, to songs never before played in public.
All the while, a free-floating Anderson, capable of carrying a tune whether backslapping a bandmate or soaring face-first into the audience, maintained a smile, her eyes shimmering.
She was at home.
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For the better part of today, the headline of this entry listed "Now Now Sleephead" instead of "Now Now Sleepyhead," but I guess no one noticed.
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