How To Disappear Completely

There's a chill in the air, and it's catching: Fiery Furnaces in Concert

Considering that when I called Abbie and told her we were going to hear The Fiery Furnaces together, she admitted that she had never heard of them before, Abbie certainly was enthusiastic about last night's concert. And it was a good one, although I silently wished the acoustics were slightly better, because I ended the night with a distinct ringing in my ears from the mishmash melee of accumlated noise. Although, come to think of it, dense layers of sound aren't too far off the band's aesthetic, so perhaps the reverb of the smaller room enhanced the experience rather than detracted from it.

The concert took place in Denver's Bluebird Theatre, a venue I will describe as an underground bar with stage and pit. I say underground in order to describe the type of music that passes through (based on the posters plastered on the front window), not to indicate the location of the building, which was street level. A showbiz marquee with lights announced The Fiery Furnaces' ensuing performace to all who passed by. The atmosphere inside was cozy and intimate. The back drop for The Fiery Furnaces was a black banner with lyric quotes scrawled over it in neon red and yellow foreground shaping double F's and green background. (To any and all who remember it: the banner reminded me of Rob Holmes' role in the presentation on Kafka the Five Points dominated group did for Existentialism with Dr. Partain, Fall 2003. Writing and writing and writing that continued endlessly.) The color changes had the effect of fragmenting the text into two or three word phrases such as "chocolate bitter" or "bleak church."

The opening band Phantom Buffalo hailed from Portland, Maine. Their first song started with an usually long instrumental introduction, which I loved for its mellow cyclical harmonic progression. "It's like Canon in D for electric guitar," I told Abbie. "Except I actually like it." I almost bought a CD. Now I kind of wish I had, because I really loved that song. You can find "A Hilly Town" on Phantom Buffalo's webpage, but in concert, the intro was longer and there was a bit more reverb.

The Fiery Furnaces entered the stage to a recorded PA style announcement, interspersed with fragmentary parodies of commercials, sports announcers, and other radio styles of public speaking. I was wondering how the band was going to perform in live concert, since I couldn't imagine them hauling a prepared piano around with them. Well, the prepared piano was left at home apparently. But Matthew Friedberger (lead guitar) and Jason Lowenstein (bassist) managed to pull off a good deal of electronic reverb that preserved most of the timbral diversity that characterizes the band's sound.

The band performed songs from all of their major albums since Blueberry Boat (they may have performed songs from Gallowsbird's Bark, but I am not too familiar with that album). According to Abbie, I perked up noticably for "I'm In No Mood" (from the latest album, Bitter Tea), which didn't get great marks at Pitchfork, but happens to be one of my secret favorites. Eleanor's fragmentary, punctuated vocal style certainly demands attention and the transitions back and forth from the more lyrical "I was so drunk last night, etc." section to the declamatory "There's a chill in the air" keep me on my aural toes. I did sorely miss the prepared piano on that one, though. Abbie, a Michigan State grad, was happy to hear them play "Benton Harbour Blues."

The band came back for an encore, much to Abbie's displeasure: "Either you are done or you are not done. But don't make me clap twice for you; it hurts my hands." This is why Abbie is my friend.

Afterwards, I got to talk to Matt Friedberger. See previous entry for details.