Broken Bells Live at the 40 Watt – A Review

We (me and my vinyl-loving compatriot) got onsite early so as to catch the opening act; the Berkley-bred The Morning Benders, and got there early enough to catch front-ish row standing “seats”.  A plus because the show’s exponentially better the closer you are to the stage; at least at the 40 Watt, based on my experiences.  See, the place it set up simply:  Stage in the back of the house and open space below it to fit a few hundred kids, tops {the show was sold out}. No seating.  Beverage areas to the right and left.  And that’s it.  Frill-less.  Music is the motive; the raison d’être.  Come Here to Listen and Witness.  It’s sublime in its simplicity.  And we got there to live front row and center from beginning to delicious end.
The Benders were good enough.  A short set filled with nothing but songs off their new record.  I found this both refreshing and interesting.  I came expecting a touch of some of their oldies blended within cuts from their latest, per usual with most any band I’ve seen, and but I’ve not heard their first record and found myself knowing every song they played; a bonus as far as the emotional “OMG-I-Know-This-Song-And-I-Can-Sing-To-It-Along” vibe was felt.  Yet their set overall was underwhelming for two reasons: (1) I was kind of wanting to hear some older stuff to base their newer stuff upon; and (2) the stuff they did play didn’t play into my perceived notions of how I thought it would be played.  I was looking for more raucousness, more feeling, more raw energy.  It came not.  Perhaps because of the short 5-song set, perhaps because the 40 Watt was their last show on a cross-country tour lending them road wearied, perhaps because that’s not how they roll.  They rocked, though, as much as a raucous-less, seemingly tired and almost absent band can rock.  But it was by no means a wasted set.  Just underwhelming.  Maybe underachieving.  But appreciated for sure and to the fullest.

“They played at an impeccable level.”

With the Benders exit came the bubbly anticipation for the band we most all came to see and hear: Broken Bells.  As stated in previous writings, Broken Bells are seasoned musicians, and this show proved their musical merit translates graciously to the stage.  These guys know how to construct and put on a Show.  They enlisted backing musicians that are equally as versed and their collective set was an absolute showcase of talent with every member involved.  Each member given a chance to be highlighted; and they each took that chance under the spotlight, origami-ed it into something that was truly, solely theirs, and tossed it back at an audience that was at an emotional tipping point, verging near giving their first born for more more more, which we got (sans passed propriety of any prepubescent) when the collective performed together as some singularly-brained, multi-armed, thousand-fingered mystic creature of sublime music playing.  To say nothing of the lead musicians Burton and Mercer: the latter, unfazed by a rabid crowd, singing with crystal clarity while Burton maneuvered, seamlessly, drums then keys then back to drums then some stringed instrument then drums again then more keys; making the music of many from one without effort and error.  Talent, from all, at it’s most supreme.  Like saying they played well {which was my expectation} is a gross understatement.  Let’s say they took my high expectations, laughed at and ridiculed them, ground them to a fine powder they then mixed with expensive, foreign, aged bourbon to be seconds later shook in a mixer which they poured slowly into their solo cup and, after taking one contemplative sip, then heaved at my face, telling me never again to think that they’ll ever again play well because “well” is how high quality musicians play and we, sir, we the Broken Bells are beyond high quality, which is why we can ruin our expensive bourbon with your silly expectations and heave it at your person.  We can afford much more expensive, aged bourbon and your high expectations are, for lack of a better word, lacking.  These gentlemen are, like, The Wow.  And know, too, how to work a crowd.  They opened slow-ish, then rose to a triumphant crescendo with each song lifting your spirit higher to the sealing, then soon right through.  Creating a mass frenzy until all you could do was jump towards the blown rafters and scream along with the music.  They played at an impeccable level.  You can’t get a better sound then these guys.  It literally sounded like the record was in my head.  Every note on point.  Every lyric impeccable and discernible.  Everything musically and stage-presence-wise as you could have ever hoped and imagined.  Remarkable.  Hats off to the Bells and a tip of the cap to The Benders.  I’ll see you next go ’round.