The night began as Los Angeles’ Bleached opened the show with their angry-bored-punk-sisters thing and did I mention they’re from the valley? Bleached’s thumpy screeching girl rock was followed by Porcelain Raft’s wistful shoegaze aided by Mauro Remiddi’s smoldering intensity. Although the crowd seemed skeptical of Remiddi and his teutonic drummer initially, by the time the duo got around to the hypnotizing melody of “Tip of Your Tongue” they’d won us all over and probably broken the heart of at least one sound guy.

After the most comprehensive sound-check in music history Smith Westerns took the stage, frontman Cullen Omori wearing the red pants he announced he would be that afternoon via twitter, creating my new favorite hashtag #atleastnotyellow. The crowd of teenagers in flannel reeking of weed and just dying to spill beer all over me were barely able to contain their ecstasy as Omori sank in to their open arms like a king returning from decades in exile. I’m sorry to say the band’s entrance was the most exciting point of their set. After the initial rush Frontman Omori (as opposed to bassist Omori, Cullen’s younger brother Cameron) struggled against the crowd’s apathy, unsuccessfully requesting a moshpit and announcing the band’s ascendance to ”the big leagues.”

Before playing T .Rex-reminiscent “Be My Girl” frontman Omori announced the band was “Gonna play an old make out song,” continuing “so if you want to you can make out to it or you can also keep playing on your iPhones that’s just as much fun.” In that moment I felt bad for Omori and all other young bands playing to attention-deficient audiences and thinking to themselves “Marc Bolan never had to deal with this shit,” but as the underwhelming set dragged on it occurred to me that the audience wouldn’t be playing words with friends during the set if the band was giving them reason not to. Unfortunately frontman Omori seemed more concerned with keeping up his lip-bitingly adorable poses than with putting on an actual performance.

Even when the band played their last number, “Weekend,” their breakaway single which was undoubtedly a draw-factor for much of the audience, Omori rolled his eyes at the audience’s returning interest in the band’s set. After finishing up “Weekend” the Smith Westerns rushed offstage, no question as to whether or not there would be an encore. And to be perfectly honest I’m not sure who cared less, the band or the audience.

-Tiare Dunlap, host of Osmosis, Tuesdays from 8-9 PM EST on WGTB

Photos by Erika Charleston

Lucky for all of us this finals week is a lot more like a transatlantic flight. It’s long and arduous, the air feels different, and you wish you could be moving your legs more often. You’ll probably spend the whole time wishing for it to end, but what can you do except buckle in, put on some music, and hope you’re sitting next to someone you like, or at least, someone who will leave their shoes on? And remember, at the end of this time you spend being held captive in Lau while having anxiety dreams in which you are chased by a gang of blood-thirsty blue books, something beautiful awaits you: your final destination. Which, if statistics prove to be correct, is most likely New Jersey.

- Tiare Dunlap, host of Osmosis Tuesdays 9-11pm

- Tiare Dunlap, host of Osmosis, Tuesdays 9-11pm on WGTB

You wouldn’t recognize Eels frontman E (Mark Oliver Everett) by his appearance at the 9:30 club on September 26, his face was almost entirely obscured by a blue bandana, big sunglasses, and a very impressive ZZ-top scale beard. Though his face was basically missing from the concert, his distinctively crooning and rusty voice definitely was not. He made the walls of the 9:30 Club vibrate with his old school opening number, Daisies of the Galaxy, and stunned audiences with his innovation while covering Janis Joplin’s Summertime and mixing his well known Mr. E’s Beautiful Blues with the Beatle’s Twist and Shout.

Before releasing their trilogy of concept albums (Hombre Lobo in June 2009, End Times in January 2010, and Tomorrow Morning released in August 2010), Eels had been on hiatus for four years. They came back for their first performance in half a decade—seeming almost brand new with their enthusiasm, Blues Brothers getup, and new rhythm guitarist P-Boo. Knuckles on Drums, The Chet on piano and guitar, and Koool G Murder on bass rounded out the rest of the band. They effortlessly transitioned between the Eels’ harder songs, like Tremendous Dynamite, and slow crooners, like In My Younger Days.

“I know its Sunday, I don’t give a fuck!” E yelled as he ran back onstage for an impressive encore, for which the audience begged. This band partied like it was Friday night, grooving and blasting their bluesy-funk style across the greater D.C. area. It was definitely not a concert to miss; they’ve come very far since their days on the Shrek soundtrack.

Alexa West

Photo by Harrison Gale, SFS ‘13

After watching the reenactment you may be wondering how to spend your Columbus Day. Click through for our Columbus Day playlist, and please think of it as a narrative to guide your reflection on what you have just seen.

Leave us your best ideas on how to connect the dots of this narrative in the comments!

Acting: Igor German
Filming: Tiare Dunlap
Editing: Catherine DeGennaro and Tiare Dunlap
Playlisting: Tiare Dunlap

Their sound spans genres: it is at once a blend of rock, funk, jazz, and electronic sequences delivered with a Southern twang. The four members showed amazing musical talent, occasionally switching instruments mid-song. They played predominately new material from their most recent album, Heal, released in 2009, and their new EP Honey Cuts, released in June 2010.

Since their music has very few lyrics, this concert was not a sing-along but rather a huge, group dance-fest. Their fans—many wearing neon, glow-in-the-dark halo headbands, and some still in suits from work—came enthusiastic and ready to flaunt their moves, and Perpetual Groove’s set list did not disappoint. Their songs feature just enough climatic highs and chill lows to keep the audience dancing throughout their set. The occasional strobe light further heightened the frenetic energy. Everyone seemed to thoroughly enjoy the midweek groove session.

- Margaret Babington

What do you do when an irate audience member screams “F#@%k Indie Rock!!!” in the middle of your show? If you’re Surfer Blood, you thank him kindly, finish a heartfelt and energetic set, and follow it up with a brilliant (albeit unsolicited) encore.

In a day and age when too many bands are content to let their cardigans and wayfarers do the talking, it sure is good to know that there are still some artists more concerned with putting on a show than trying to look nonchalant. When it comes to showmanship, openers The Drums didn’t really set a bar so much as they did a pinnacle. Frontman Jonathan Pierce’s performance was nothing short of revelatory. Possessing the androgyny of a Ziggy-era David Bowie, the strut of Mick Jagger in his prime, and the overall theatrical prowess of a virginal Madonna, Pierce was more than a frontman- he was a surrealist vision. Pierce and his band mates surged through tracks ‘Make You Mine’ and ‘Book Stories’ with such fervor it was difficult to blink.

Next Surfer Blood took the stage, accompanied by the palpable void left by Pierce’s wild gesticulating and marching. Opening with ‘Fast Jabroni’ it was clear that the theatrics of The Drums had even made an impression on Surfer Blood frontman John Paul Pitts, who had picked up some outlandish moves of his own. Though a very different scene from the kabuki theater of The Drums, the dedication of Surfer Blood’s performance brought a new depth to their Floridian College Indie Pop (which has been less than affectionately labeled the genre of alt-bro-pop), showing that band members had done more than discover the elusive formula of addictive buoyant distorted pop.

Though much has been said about their inexperience (they formed as Freshmen at University of Florida just last year), it is their dissimilarity which creates their distinctively multi-faceted performance.  If they’re putting out material as critically acclaimed as Astro Coast while still pursuing cohesion, surely there is much more to come from these baby-faced virtuosos. The boys gave gave it their all, playing everything in their repertoire, in addition to a couple in-the-works tracks. As their aforementioned encore, they took ‘Slow Jabroni’ to its limits. Though it was self-consciously prefaced by Pitts’ comment that “this one’s really hard to play live”, their sincerity and focus made it the best song they played all night.

–Tiare Dunlap