It’s a rare treat to encounter a support act that really blows your socks off but, my friends, I am hear to testify that DR.DOG left me barefoot in the head.
Praised by the king of cosmic country Jim James, and signed to mighty mighty Rough Trade, these Philadelphian freaks are a real treat for jaded ears. Imagine a trippy amalgam of bubblegum pop, West Coast harmonies and country rock. Add the angular guitars of post-punk, the oceanic ebb and flow of post-rock and the exhilarating, disorientating psychedelic noise of Animal Collective and their ilk, and you will be some way to understanding just how much fun they are.
It is evident that Dr Dog love doing their thing as much as we love hearing it. The unalloyed joy they derive from their musical interaction is infectious, reminding me of The Band as captured on ‘The Last Waltz’.
Whilst the whole set is consistently engaging, two tracks in particular stand out. Though it shares its name with Mr Bowie’s favourite Arcade Fire song, ‘Wake up’ is an altogether different animal, with Pavement-style guitars leading inexorably to the enlightened, blissful a cappella refrain: ‘Wake up wakeup wake up, we are only part of a dream, the things in your heart, like the things in your head, are only what they seem.’ ‘Fool’s Life’ is just out there, with the craziest of Dada chants punctuating a woozy lament which in turn turns into a manic, panic-inducing freak-out. Dr Dog – they bark (they honestly do), but they’re friendly.
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Hot on the heels of The Arcade Fire and Arctic Monkeys, CLAP YOUR HANDS SAY YEAH are another band to benefit from that thrillingly modern phenomenon known variously as internet word-of-mouth or viral marketing, depending on your level of cynicism.
The problem is that CYHSY don’t have the song writing strength of the aforementioned acts. I’m not saying that they aren’t musically interesting, its just that their songs promise much but generally fail to fully deliver, appearing either half-formed or unduly truncated, often building into pleasing, intricate grooves that are too soon curtailed. This may well be intended and I suppose its new wave in its way, but I found it quite frustrating.
Though often compared to Talking Heads, CYHSY sound more organic, looser than Byrne and co. I don’t know if they’d appreciate the comparison, but the band they remind me of most are the shamefully underrated Violent Femmes.
On the strength of tonight, CYHSY have a way to go before becoming the great band their more vociferous fans claim they are. These youthful tykes have plenty of time though, and no doubt I’ll be eating my words come 2008.
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