With its awkward design separating the primary performance area from the bar and the dance floor, Holocene isn’t exactly conducive to multitasking. Want to dance to the DJs playing between bands? Fight your way through the narrow passage from the staging room to the front of the venue. Need a drink from the bar? Good luck navigating the crush of people who are either similarly thirsty or simply couldn’t find a suitable place to stand. Hoping to check out the opener while waiting ages for your beer? There’s a wall in the way.
Nestled at the rear of the venue, almost as an afterthought, the small stage is crammed with tarp-covered equipment. Forty-five minutes past the scheduled start time, it remains devoid of performers. With most patrons still crowded into the designated dance area near the entrance, Jessica 6’s members finally appear. Vocalist Nomi Ruiz has a Karen O haircut and a Gloria Gaynor voice – modern yet dripping with 1970s influence. She and her bandmates produce inoffensive nu-disco sounds that would be the perfect soundtrack to a movie montage involving a coke-fueled night on the town. All sped-up frames and dilated pupils. Ruiz has good command of the stage, though the songs are mostly indistinguishable from one another. She stomps and staggers as she sings, tugging at the bottom of her scant mini-dress to avoid exposure. The band is committed and well-rehearsed, but there’s something generic about them. A shift occurs midway through their performance, throwing R&B undertones into the mix. Their performance is quite long for an opening band, and though some crowd members twist their hips to the music, the urge to dance does not reach me.
Once Jessica 6 is done, another hour-long DJ set begins and the stage area empties out. People shuffle from room to room, with the majority landing back on the dance floor until it’s time for the headliners. Without warning, the house lights are extinguished and a colored light show begins flashing from two platforms on the stage. The light show intensifies, brightening to near-blinding levels and pulsing at seizure-inducing intervals. Rainbow colors illuminate the performance area as the members of Holy Ghost! assemble before us. “Apologies for the stage theatrics,” they say. It’s the band’s first time with top-billing, and they’re clearly excited. The members might also be a tad nervous – there’s an entire whiskey bottle next to the main drum set. I say main drum set because there are three crammed onto the stage: one full kit and a couple of two-drum stands. There’s also an old-school synthesizer with a few dozen cables snaking out of it like a switchboard. This band has a lot going on.
By the time the band begins its second song, “It’s Not Over,” the room has erupted into a sweaty frenzy of writhing bodies soaking up the electro pop. The singer hovers over the stage’s edge, dangling his mic cable in onlookers’ faces. On the chance he forgets the lyrics, the entire crowd knows them. Holy Ghost’s members exert an aura of gratefulness to be here. They interact frequently with the audience, and don’t have a hint of attitude or a sense that they are doing us a favor. Throughout their performance, the colored light boxes continue to flash. This show is not for the faint of heart or those with delicate neurological conditions.
“Do It Again” elicits the largest audience response, sending fans barreling into one another and spraying beer into the air. The immense enjoyment is equally represented on both sides of the stage. Hip-shaking drumbeats crash out of the kits, accompanied by the twinkling of an electric piano nestled in the corner. The members rotate stations from time to time, showcasing multiple talents. After they play a few more songs off their recent full-length debut, the singer pulls his iPhone from his pocket and humbly asks us all to pose for a photo. It’s among the most adorable live music moments I’ve had the pleasure of witnessing. With the set’s last song drawing to a close, he jumps down off his perch and is immediately swallowed by a sea of groping fans. He reemerges, hugging those around him while clutching the microphone and bouncing up and down. The other band members, sharing in his spirit and enthusiasm, manage to crack one of the still-flashing light panels in the midst of their thrashing around.
Following an encore that invites the three members of Jessica 6 back to the stage for “an attempt at 1978,” the band thanks us profusely for attending their show. Unfamiliar with our city, they use the last moments of amplified sound to inquire about fun activities nearby. A half-dozen crowd members quickly offer to help dismantle their equipment and take them next door to Sassy’s. A little Portland hospitality in exchange for a fabulous dance party.
