CMJ: Friday

News Article
Pitchfork
October 25, 2008
Link

Photos by Francis Chung ; Above: Róisín Murphy

Róisín Murphy [Mansion; 9:30 p.m.]


A costume change is just another well-choreographed dance move for Irish dance-pop chanteuse Róisín Murphy . Making her U.S. solo debut, the former lead singer for trip-hoppy duo Moloko switched fanciful outfits-- a silvery space-knight ensemble, an angelic-shaped furry coat, a crow-like black coat with a hunchback, and, oh yeah, all kinds of great hats-- more times than I could count, often beginning right on stage, in mid-song. Backed by a pair of smartly choreographed female singers plus guitarist, live drummer, bass player, and electronics guru, she commanded the audience at this Chelsea nightclub with her shimmying, expert stage presence. "I'M SOW INTO YOU," screamed one fan's handmade sign. The disco balls on the ceiling were nice, too, and appropriate.


The music, you ask? Murphy's Matthew Herbert-produced solo debut, 2005's Ruby Blue , and the follow-up, last year's Overpowered -- neither has been released in America-- are driven by a similarly intricate sense of style, matching the shiny pulse of early cosmic disco to the r&b sensuality and tech-jazz micro-edit intricacy of contemporary avant-pop. In concert, no amount of energetic dancing could dim Murphy's smoldering vocals, in a set that relied mostly on material from Overpowered and only one song, "Forever More", from Moloko. The sound system at the Mansion was immaculate, a CMJ rarity, delivering every drum hit with clear, granular, body-shaking intensity. Hell, Murphy rocked , headbanging during a heavy metal coda to underscore the point of Overpowered 's hyper-intelligent nothin'-but-mammals come-on "Primitive". There was no "If We're in Love", a staff favorite from Ruby Blue , and a few of the more hypnotic house cuts dragged on a bit long for a pop show rather than a club night, but any admirer of Murphy's records couldn't help but leave impressed. And not just by her fashion sense.


The Dutchess and the Duke [Pianos; 11 p.m.]


Low-key Seattle folk-pop duo the Dutchess and the Duke are the perfect kind of band to stumble onto by accident. After the Longest Manhattan Cab Ride Ever (it's official, we checked), Francis and I weren't sure we were going to make it to Piano's in time to catch Oxford Collapse, scheduled for 10:30 p.m., and when these punk veterans started their set around a half an hour after that time, we weren't even sure at first who we were seeing. With casually well-crafted songs that sound like Rubber Soul done the Vaselines' way-- and a comfortable, super-cool onstage camaraderie-- singer/guitarists Kimberly Morrison and Jesse Lortz quickly made themselves known. A mop-topped tambourine/maraca player accompanied them on tunes about fortune tellers and fucking in phone booths, from their Hardly Art debut, She's the Dutchess, He's the Duke . The occasional flubbed note, like Morrison's slyly barbed banter, only helped to cement a bond with an audience who all felt like the band's friends (for all I know, they were). It was Morrison's birthday; everybody sang.


Oxford Collapse [Pianos; 12 a.m.]



"Don't fondle our bass player's legs while he's trying to play the most intricate bass line he's ever written," Oxford Collapse singer/guitarist Michael Pace quipped at one point during the Brooklyn post-college rockers' set. I don't often find myself listening to these guys when I'm not covering them, but I've always given them the benefit of the doubt: Three dudes armed with youthful enthusiasm, an obvious love for American indie from R.E.M. to the Dismemberment Plan, a few scruffy brainy wistful heart-tugging anthems-- what's not to like, right? On stage, where Pace's shaky bark was harder to decipher, I mostly found myself noticing how overly "intricate" a lot of these songs really can be. Pace on guitar, Dan Fetherston on drums, Adam Rizer on bass: Each obviously knows his instrument, but they're often doing too much, and as impressive as the constant fretboard movement or tricksy drum fills are, they get in the way of the songs. As do Pace's leg-kicking guitar moves (guitarists, please don't do this) and Rizer walking around with guitar face (bass face?). Didn't seem to stop anybody around me from losing their shit over the better songs from solid Sub Pop albums Bits and Remember the Night Parties , including the still-great "Please Visit Your National Parks", and by the final moments, most of the first couple rows seemed to end up on stage, singing along and bro-ing down.