postcards from the pit Archives

Postcards from the Pit: Black Veil Brides / William Control / Wildstreet, 1/25/2013

By Jennifer February 13, 2013 February 6, 2014 Postcards from the Pit, Rock 'n' Roll Photog, show reviews

This was not my first show of the new year, but it was the one I looked forward to for days in a state of nervous, fluttery happiness. It was also my second Black Veil Brides event in one week; the first one was a viewing of Legion of the Black, the movie that accompanies / amplifies their new record, Wretched and Divine: The Story of the Wild Ones.

I say accompanies/amplifies because the movie both illustrates and provides a narrative structure for the record. You can listen to and enjoy the record without ever watching the film, but it’s somewhat like listening to the official soundtrack of a Broadway show and never seeing the stage play itself.

I got watch five minutes of the movie at the listening party in December; having now experienced the rest I can tell you it is interesting, conceptually and thematically, but I’m holding off on making detailed commentary until I can watch it again when it gets a wider re-release in the spring.

Meanwhile, onwards to the show:

Wildstreet, of New York, were up first. They have a new record out. Here are some pictures of (most of) them:

Next up wasWilliam Control, aka William Francis (Aiden), who is also the voice of F.E.A.R., a character in Legion of the Black. He temporarily pushed the tone of the evening in the direction of goth-industrial dance music.

He sounds so much like Rogue from The Cruxshadows that I spent the last half of his set seriously wondering if I had missed a memo and Rogue had cut off his dreads and renamed himself. (And if he was going to play Marilyn My Bitterness because I love that song.)

Anyway, minor case of identity confusion aside, I did dig Mr. Control’s grooves, so if goth-industrial dance music is your thing, check him out.

There is only one picture of him because singing in a pit of sp00ky darkness periodically illuminated by strobing red and purple light: excellent for atmosphere, bad for photography.

And then it was time for the main event: the Black Veil Brides. Despite the occasional rough patch – I really hope someone got Andy Biersack some hot tea liberally mixed with whiskey afterwards – they were really great.

I thought the new material mixed well with their older songs. They stuck mostly to the heavier, growlier, thrashier end of their range, this time around, but there were some softer moments. I was particularly pleased that they made room in the setlist for Jinxx (guitar) to play Overture, the instrumental track from Wretched and Divine – I have a weakness for big burly dudes playing the violin, okay – and also did their cover of Billy Idol’s Rebel Yell.

Here are some pictures of them:

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Postcards from the Pit: Ceremony, Webster Hall, 12.02.12

By Jennifer December 5, 2012 February 6, 2014 Postcards from the Pit, Rock 'n' Roll Photog, show reviews

Ceremony were not the headliners for this show – that was Titus Andronicus – but they were the band I liked best. The first opener was Lemuria, who were pleasant but didn’t really turn my crank, and as for Titus Andronicas, I just wasn’t feeling it this time. Everyone else was having the best possible time and losing their collective minds, though, so I think it was me, not them.

Ceremony was a surprise in a number of ways. First they were American punks when I had been expecting British goths¹ – some day I will learn to read band bios before shows – and second, the previously placid pit exploded the moment their first note sounded.

The reason most of the pictures are a little bit blurry is because the floor beneath me was vibrating from the force of the audience’s enthusiasm. I was mainly hanging on to the barrier as tightly as I could and occasionally ducking stage divers.

Their music is ferocious and beautiful. It sounds like both the end and the beginning of the world, and like something complex and spiky being annealed in the blue core of a fire.

¹ Essentially I had conflated their influences – Joy Division – and a wide array of cultural echoes – a song by Joy Division, a record by The Cult, a long-running club night in Boston, all also called Ceremony – and thought they were a first or second-wave goth band that doesn’t actually exist.

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Postcards from the Pit: The Darkness / The Dirty Pearls / Sweatheart, 10/22/12

By Jennifer November 4, 2012 February 6, 2014 Postcards from the Pit, Rock 'n' Roll Photog, show reviews

This show fell into the time period I refer to as “Halloween or Tuesday?”, in which, due to New York’s ah, vibrant populace, it is sometimes hard to tell if the person / group of people wearing what appear to be costumes are on their way to/from a Halloween party, or if they customarily rig themselves out in, say, top-hats, tails and corsets just to make a quick run up to the store.

So when Sweatheart came out in their vaguely Medieval-looking outfits, you could probably see the Hmmm thought bubble floating above the crowd. I wasn’t really sure but was willing to come down on the side of Halloween. (I was also wondering what The Darkness would come up with as Halloween costumes.)

As soon as the next band came on, though, it became apparent that we were not at a Halloween show, and snakeskin bodystockings, furry cuffs and monk robes were just Tuesday for Sweatheart. (Or Sunday night, as the case may be.) I appreciate that kind of ridiculousness in a band. They had excellent tunes, too, raunchy and hilarious in equal measure and driven by big crunchy riffs. And to top it all off they had a puppet playing the keyboards:

The Dirty Pearls were next, and they swung the pendulum back a hair or two in the direction of Very Serious Heavy Metal. They also had great tunes, including a particularly good ballad. (Heavy metal love songs are my weakness, yes they are.)

And then it was time for The Darkness. I really love The Darkness. They have all of the things I love(d) about glam metal – sing along choruses, shredding, big riffs, ridiculous outfits – and they manage to, I don’t know – revive? celebrate? acknowledge? – the genre in a way that’s playful, knowing, and funny but not mocking. Attending their show is a genuine joy, from overhearing serious discussions about Poison in the line to joining the crowd in singing along to a A Thing Called Love.

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Postcards from the Pit: Fiona Apple / Blake Mills, T5, 10/16/12

By Jennifer October 24, 2012 February 6, 2014 Postcards from the Pit, Rock 'n' Roll Photog, show reviews

This show was part pilgrimage, because I had never seen Fiona Apple play live before, and part penance, for largely the same reason.

The show started with music from her band, led by Blake Mills, who sang some of his delicately lovely pop songs and put on something of a master class in the fine art of the electric guitar:

Here is what I learned, about Fiona Apple‘s shows: every single one of them is a cage match between the spirit of rock n’ roll and her demons. She does not so much sing a song as conduct a jazz cabaret-inflected exorcism.

It’s incredible and intense; I actually spent several long stretches standing mostly still, eyes closed, just letting the chords bounce and crash around my head while her voice – her big, brazen, smokey, flexible, magnificent voice – washed over me.

I am, as usual, completely useless with things like set lists. I recognized several from The Idler Wheel, including Every Single Night, Daredevil, Anything We Want, Left Alone and Fast As You Can, but what really defined the evening for me was the song she didn’t play: Criminal.

I heard some people near me calling out for it, and they were doubtless disappointed when it was not forthcoming. I, on the other hand, was both relieved and pleased. It’s not that I hate the song. It’s that watching the video she made for it – the raw misery on her face – makes me feel sick and sad and wish I had a time machine so I could go back and pull her out and away and give her a blanket and a warm beverage.

And this might be faulty logic, but on some level, its absence from the set list suggests to me that there is at least one demon she’s beaten and one battle she no longer has to fight. That, and the secret triumphant smile she flashed at us as the last notes faded into the woodwork, were the true highlights of the night.

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Postcards from the Pit: Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls / Larry and his Flask / Jenny Owen Youngs, Webster Hall, 9/29/12

By Jennifer October 3, 2012 February 6, 2014 Postcards from the Pit, Rock 'n' Roll Photog, show reviews

Once again I went to a show having not heard a note of anyone’s music beforehand. What can I say, sometimes I like to live dangerously. Plus the show was part of my friend’s birthday party, and since she has generally excellent taste in music I was willing to bet it would be a good night. Spoiler alert: I was right!

Jenny Owen Youngs was up first, by herself with her guitar. She was at the opposite end of the stage from me, so the pictures are kind of awkward. But here’s one anyway:

Larry and his Flask were up next. When they came out with a banjo, electric mandolin and an upright bass, but yet also a drum set, I expected they’d continue the mellow tone of the evening and play up-tempo but still sedate bluegrass-inflected folk-rock.

Instead they unleashed a whirlwind of bluegrass-inflected punk rock that was one of the finest musical experiences I’ve ever had. Here they are in action:

And then the gentlemen we had all been waiting for, Frank Turner and the Sleeping Souls. Mr. Turner and his merry crew are not quite as frenetic as Larry and his Flask; more folk rock than folk punk, though Turner’s hardcore roots are definitely tangible in their sound.

The crowd started jumping and singing with him as soon as he started to play, and while I did enjoy the music, it was also a pleasure to be around people that were that happy.

Other highlights:

1) The moment in the middle of the set the room went silent, or as silent as Webster Hall can be when it is full to bursting, while he sang Tell Tale Signs.

It’s new(ish), the third song in a trilogy, and its about love, and also about scars. It is raw and beautiful and left me a little bit breathless and almost kind of alarmed, like I had read something intensely personal that had accidentally been made public.

2) The end, when he closed down the main set with Photosynthesis. That one is a song about getting old and tired and the ways in which the world can pull you down, but also about resisting that drag.

The chorus is I will not sit down and I will not shut up / and most of all I will not grow up, and hearing a packed house sing those words at the top of their lungs was a kick in the pants that I very much needed.

And now, some pictures from the set:

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Postcards from the Pit: Whitesnake

By Jennifer May 25, 2011 February 6, 2014 Postcards from the Pit, Rock 'n' Roll Photog, show reviews

I saw Whitesnake at Irving Plaza last week – now there is a sentence I never expected to write – and about two songs into their set, it occurred to me: these are the kind of rock stars I fell in love with the first time. Not these specific rockstars, maybe, what with Whitesnake having been reconstituted several times since they started, but certainly of this general type: the shredding, hair-flying-everywhere, flowing-shirts-and-leather-trousers flavor of musician.

Though I certainly do have a massive soft spot for Whitesnake in particular, and this incarnation of the band is a solid one. David Coverdale sounds great, and he’s got some heavy metal all-stars behind him, with Doug Aldrich (Dio) and Reb Beach (Winger) on guitars, Brian Tichy (Foreigner) on drums, Michael Devin (Lynch Mob) on bass and Brian Ruedy (Bret Michaels, Brian “Head” Welch, of KORN) on keys.

The set was a mixture of old and new songs – Whitesnake has a new record out! – and from what I could tell they were really enjoying themselves. This is one of my favorite pictures from the evening, taken during the “epic battling guitar solo” portion of the evening, and I love it mainly because Reb Beach and Doug Aldrich are grinning at each other like they have just invented a new holiday and it involves electric guitars:

In short, it was a fantastic evening. Here are a few more pictures:

Reb Beach (“former singing waiter of this parish”- David Coverdale) mugging as he shreds

Doug Aldrich

Brian Tichy, mid-solo

L to R: David Coverdale, Michael Devin, Brian Ruedy

David Coverdale, listening to the crowd sing to him.

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