The gentleman sitting a row in front of me at the Chromeo show was playing games on his iPhone, completely ignoring his friend who sat perfectly still and stared blankly at the stage. This was a microcosm, I thought. The more we advance, the more we retreat. The games on this man’s iPhone (the cutting edge of communication technology) were technologically akin to Atari games: Drag your finger across the screen to smash the fruit before it splatters on the wall. Direct this caterpillar through the earth and score points by eating apples. Line up all these jewels with their corresponding color before they build up too high. Keep the ball from bouncing outside the screen parameters with these little white sticks. Likewise, Chromeo used cutting edge technology (Macbooks and fancy keyboards) to produce replicas of radio hits from the '80s. All this forward movement, all this progression, all this new technology so we can remake the things we’ve had for 30 years. But we love it. We love rekindling history. We love new takes on old things. Tivoli radios, Volkswagen Beetles, Hi-top sneakers, '80s dance parties, sequin dresses, green-glass office towers nestled against a crumbling Victorian-era pubs. Contrast will always be a compelling element of modern art, which is why young bands like Chromeo dazzle the retro-obsessed masses. Oh, and their danceability level is off the charts.
The opening act was a Japanese all-girl pop-rock band reminiscent of the 5-6-7-8’s called The Suzan. For reasons other than really wanting to hear their music again, I’m happy I got to see this band. I would never have come across them otherwise. These girls channeled the spastic energy of a firework show, a nuclear reaction, and a clown car into a half-hour set that made jaws drop across the room. I won’t go into what I expected from Chromeo’s opening act, but it certainly wasn’t this. They wore mismatched stockings, zig-zag-striped shirts of a dozen colors, and an interesting array of headwear. The bassist had a giant blue Minnie Mouse bow tied around her bobbed black hair, and the keyboardist sported a flat-billed baseball cap with THE SUZAN inscribed in yellow across the front. The lead singer rarely strayed from the edge of the stage where she cheer-led the crowd with claps and fist pumps. Fiercely ignoring the possibility that only five people there had ever heard of them, their faces and mannerisms expressed unwavering confidence. And true to stereotype, the lead singer took a moment between songs to ask, “Ahh you ready Port-RAND?!” Periodically, she and bassist would take turns hi-fiving the front row and throwing in myriad other rockstar moves like standing on the kick-drum and collapsing at the end of a song. However, The Suzan were performers, cheerleaders, and entertainers before they were musicians. Their sound was a skeleton of music, devoid of meaning or specialty which made them good candidates for children’s music in the same way that Pikachu has succeeded wildly as a children’s cartoon character. But we all need outlets that let us off the hook, allowing us to shut off our brains for a while and just be silly.
The Suzan signed off by commencing the Wizard of Oz/Chromeo chant: “Oh-ee-oh, Chro-mee-oh…” which kept the crowd busy while the stagehands did their business and faked everyone out with sound-checks. Shortly after, the lights turned off, the signature sexy-leg-lamps turned on, and Chromeo, appropriately, opened with “Don’t Turn the Lights On.” This one takes the cake for “song most likely to get stuck in your head for days after listening to it only once.” But what a fabulous parasite of a song it is! Chromeo fans may not know who Klimaxx or Hall and Oates are, but I guarantee after hearing a clip of “Meeting in the Ladies Room” and “Maneater” they’ll make the connection and be properly situated back in the days of stonewashed jeans and Charles in Charge. Chromeo have something going for them that not all throwback bands do. One, they’re Canadian (a country that kicks out copious amounts of indie-talent). Two, they’re funny and self-deprecating (which, arguably, comes with being Canadian). They endearingly tout themselves as geeky boys oblivious to their appeal while conspicuously surrounded by gorgeous women. The music holds its own, however, only as far as a phone conversation between two lovers does – the facial expressions and mannerisms are essential to catching the humor. Their lyrics are not as overtly satirical and goofy as Flight of the Concords, but there are unmistakable similarities in their cheesy choreography, refined musical capabilities, and conscious copycatting. They appeal to the smart kids, the geeks, and anyone who has been to an '80s dance party and had a totally rad time.
In the span of their hour-and-a-half set, I saw Queen, Rick James, Kraftwerk, Survivor, Prince, and Guns N’ Roses tossed neatly into a synth-pop funk salad dressed modestly with a robotic vocoder. Chromeo are Dave Macklovitch aka “Dave 1” and Patrick Gemayel aka “P Thugg” from Montréal. Their latest release is called Business Casual, a tightly-woven record that “two-steps” back to the dance floor of a decade unafraid to crank up the neon lights.
