Bowerbirds' two Philadelphia shows on Sunday were held at the side chapel of the First Unitarian Church, which is perhaps the oddest venue I’ve ever been to, even stranger than its more famous basement. It’s definitely among the smallest I’ve encountered, with room for maybe 50 people at most. It was also--like the basement on most summer nights--quite warm and stuffy, which was a surprise for an evening in late-March.
“All Mine” played over the speakers as opening three-piece BELL finished up their sound-check before the second show, and with some of their practice beats echoing the menace of songs like “Machine Gun,” I briefly considered the possibility that they were a Portishead tribute band. As it turned out, I wasn’t too far off: BELL’s 30-minute set was a challenging mix of bleeping electronic percussion and Bjork-style vocalizing from lead singer Olga Bell that echoed the harshness of Third. However, while the set was interesting and sometimes engaging (especially “The Minor”), in the end it left me cold. Part of it may have had to do with factors outside their control; the side chapel didn’t offer the best acoustics for their beat-heavy sound, and everything sounded like it had been turned up way too high. So BELL may be a band to watch, but it was hard to make a fair assessment of their sound that night.
Bowerbirds’ Cajun-flavored freak-folk fit the venue much more successfully (even if Phil Moore’s guitar sounded over-amplified early in their set). Indeed, if the title “band that you would want playing a concert in your living room on a summer evening” existed, it would be hard to think of a group better suited to that role. Moore, accordionist Beth Tacular, and drummer Matt Damron played a set heavy with cuts from their second album, the forthcoming Dead Oceans (dropping later this summer), and the off-beat folksiness that shone through many of these songs point to an album that improves on their impressive 2007 debut Hymn for a Dark Horse. The selections they did play from the debut were no less remarkable, in particular “In Our Talons,” featuring an endearingly weird bird-chirping chorus by Moore and Tacular that channeled the unique Americana of Sufjan Stevens, and “Dark Horse,” a melancholy tune with enigmatic lyrics about nature, loneliness, and cockroaches in upstate New York.
Bowerbirds deserve to break through, and their sophomore effort offers them an opportunity to do exactly that. With luck, they’ll return to Philly later this year, and while they fit the vibe of the side chapel perfectly, I’ll cross my fingers and hope that they move to more expansive--and less stuffy--venues very soon.
