Backstage Pass

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ST. LOUIS

BACKSTAGE PASS CONCERT REVIEWS

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Har Mar Superstar The Blue Note, February 14 True/False Film Festival Valentine’s Day Concert

The Blue Note, a cavernous, converted movie theater in Columbia, Missouri, was nearly empty when the People’s Republic of Klezmerica opened the True/False Film Festival–sponsored show with their unique and exuberant hillbillyYiddish folk songs. Resembling the Mizzoumusic-majors-doing-this-shit-for-kicks offshoot that they probably are, the PRK shouted and lurched through a loose, fun set of euphoric chants and bari sax versus flute rock-offs.

Fans of non-same-sounding lineups rejoiced as the next band, Mahjongg, hit the stage in a fury of indie-rocked new wave. Incorporating samples, keyboards, drum loops, and (occasionally) a second, smaller drum kit into spastic, hooky, Talking Heads–ish arrangements, Mahjongg had the crowd moving to their mix of rocking instrumentals and sing-along rave-ups. Bonus points go to the bass player for rocking a pair of pump-up sneakers and to the keyboard player, who removed his hippie blouse midset to reveal a small leather vest with no shirt underneath. Man.

Taking a break from recording his followup to last year’s phenomenal You Can Feel Me (with Timbaland in the producer’s chair this time, no shit) to headline this event (as a favor for a friend involved with the festival), Har Mar Superstar strutted onto the stage like a Vegas peacock. Performing to backing tracks (but without his regular dancing ladies, who sadly couldn’t join him for this one-off show), Har Mar worked the crowd like the world’s smallest, hairiest, Stevie Wonder–singin’est Chippendales dancer. Starting the set swathed in what looked to be a graduation robe, he quickly tore away the garment to reveal a powder blue tuxedo adorned with sparkly red hearts. It was only a matter of time before he was stripped down to a skimpy pair of red briefs, cavorting in the audience with any ladies interested in bending down (did I mention how tiny he is? little-sister tiny) for a kiss. The set was split between new songs and favorite You Can Feel Me tracks, keeping the party at full throttle in between dancing and singing along or laughing at the sheer spectacle of the guy. Or both. It didn’t matter, because as absurd and ridiculous as he looks, he’s a born entertainer with songs as catchy as they are hilarious. After a finale featuring an excerpt from the musical Hair, Har Mar left the stage without an encore, reentering the emptying club 15 minutes later. Dressed in his civvies now—trainer pants and a hoodie—he was suddenly Sean Tillman again, out of character and off duty, soft-spoken and polite to fans asking for a picture. As he posed with his arms around two female fans, I distinctly heard him (or, rather, Har Mar) purr, “Happy Valentine’s Day, ladeeeez.” —Brian McClelland

Puddle of Mudd w/Smile Empty Soul The Pageant, February 10

Puddle of Mudd’s new album, Life on Display, may not be selling like their first record, Come Clean, which moved over three million copies, but they can still rock the house. However, they weren’t the only band to get the sold-out crowd to its feet; Smile Empty Soul also had a strong performance—in fact, probably even better than Mudd.

Smile played an energetic 40-minute set, featuring the group’s breakout hit, “Bottom of a Bottle,” as well as their current single, “Nowhere Kids.” Lead singer Sean Danielsen seemed to hit every note just right throughout the performance, going from a mellow verse to a gut-wrenching scream. The band rarely stopped to speak to the audience, the only time being to mention Trader Bob’s Tattoo Shop in St. Louis, but the crowd didn’t seem to mind, as the band flew through many of the well-written songs on their debut album.

Mudd’s performance was sort of a homecoming. The band hails from Kansas City, and lead singer Wes Scantlin’s family was on hand to watch the performance, including his young son. There were several fans that had made the trek from K.C. to catch their favorite band in action.

Mudd opened with their first hit, “Control,” and went right into their new material from Display. While many of the songs on the band’s first album have a distinct sound, most of the songs on the new album sound the same, although the fans didn’t seem to mind. Some of the new songs the band performed included “Nothing Left to Lose” (a personal favorite) and “Away From Me,” the current single.

Mudd also performed crowd favorites “Drift & Die,” “Nobody Told Me,” and their biggest single to date, “Blurry”; Scantlin brought his son onto the stage for the performance of “Blurry.” Mudd closed with the catchy and annoying “She Hates Me.”

Overall, it was a heavy, grunge-filled evening, highlighted not by the headliner but by Smile Empty Soul. Mudd’s performance just had a “been here, seen this before” feel to it, while Smile looked to be a band quickly on the rise.

Read Jeremy Housewright’s interview with Smile Empty Soul online at www.playbackstl.com. —Jeremy Housewright

March 2004

Wheat Gargoyle, February 11

While standing in the Gargoyle watching Wheat perform, I found myself weighing the options of whether it’s better to see a band that you know and love or to see one that is entirely new to you. Nothing beats the preshow anticipation of knowing that you will be seeing performed live some of your most beloved music. But there is always a subtle fear that your favorite band will churn out a completely uninspiring performance, rendering the genius of their recorded perfection tainted and somehow less thrilling than it once was. The excited build-up to a show is absent when seeing a band you know nothing about, because there are no expectations either way. Yet this is precisely why unknown bands can offer an advantage that those frequenting your CD collection cannot. With no expectations, there is, of course a chance that you will not like what you hear and will leave the show unaffected either way. But there is also an equal chance that you will be pleasantly surprised and maybe even completely blown away.

I admit that I went to the show to see Hey Mercedes open, knowing nothing at all about Wheat or what kind of music they might offer. When Hey Mercedes didn’t show up (which Wheat frontman Scott Lovesque later informed us was due to car trouble), I was slightly disappointed that I was now tied into an evening of music in which I had no vested interest. By the end of the evening, though, the disappointment had faded into the general lightness of feeling that accompanies being favorably surprised.

Wheat played to an admittedly sparse audience, but the small size of the gathering contributed a sense of intimacy rather than emptiness. The band itself created an air of familiarity and friendliness by constantly talking with the audience, as though they were a band just starting out and playing in their parents’ basement to a few close friends. The amateurish impression that they gave was deceiving, though, as I was informed by fans around me of their past albums and established history. One guy even mentioned that Wheat’s debut album made the topten list of his all-time favorites, a testimony that clued me into an apparently diehard fanbase.

I was also told that Wheat historically produced somewhat sad, melancholy music but had switched directions on their latest album, Per Second, Per Second, Per Second…Every Second (Sony). The old style was lost on me, because every song they performed was happy, melodic, and upbeat. Wheat exudes colorful cheer, short of being sickly saccharine. Theirs is not the

music of shiny exteriors and vacant cores; it is instead pleasant, bright pop with intelligence to back it up. Armed with credentials to set them apart, Wheat has the potential to explode onto the music scene. So much so that next time they come through St. Louis, it might not seem like such an intimate gathering.

Wheat next hits the St. Louis stage at the Pageant on March 16 in support of Liz Phair. —Anne Valente

Ladysmith Black Mambazo Sheldon Concert Hall, February 15

It’s a miracle the mic stands survived.

The Sheldon has a smallish stage, and there are ten guys in Ladysmith Black Mambazo. The mic stands were in a line of nine in back, with one for leader Joseph Shabalala in front. The members of this South African a cappella group did not just stand in place or occasionally sway; they did high kicks. Often. Sometimes the kicks were all together, precise as a drill team; sometimes they were in the service of horseplay. At least one foot hit at least one rear end in the course of the evening. Thus, the miracle: shards of metal and plastic did not fly about the hall like shrapnel. That’s a display of talent.

continued on page 19

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