Joe Haege and Corrina Repp know how to attract eyes and ears without going “Lady Gaga” on the audience. Drawing up memories of the now-defunct Virginia trio Denali, Tu Fawning is haunting but not gloomy. With moody ascending-sans-crescendo guitars and a foreboding tone, tempered by honey-coated you-best-be-paying-attention lady-vocals, Tu Fawning is at once arcane and contemporary, theatric while still attached to reality. But where Denali might have sent the pop of the bass and snare awash in a tide of rebounding strings and cymbals, Tu Fawning heaves the drums to the forefront for a snappier, larger, harder-hitting beat. Rounding out their opening set of a triple-billed evening, all band members simultaneously shivered their tambourines upwards with a punctuating slap, chanting the lyrics to "Multiply a House": The river’s too shallow / the land is too barren / even my enemies don’t bother me / multiply the house by every house on earth / someday when the waters rise / you’ll be the only one on the hill alive. As the trumpet sounded off a militant and ominous loop in the background, these Portland locals truly captivated their audience. With a stage presence that fluently exhibits passion, talent and energy--tempered by a touch of self-implicating laughter--Tu Fawning is certainly a band to watch.
Fol Chen aligned musically with the opener and headliner using predominant, abrupt tempo changes - but that’s about it. While Fol Chen offers some impressive percussion, and the drummer offers some cool, wispy drummer-hair, something organic is missing from this band. Fol Chen are fans of outfit coordination, dotting the stage with all rouge button-ups, jeans, and jumpers marked with a thick black stripe on the left shoulder. But the group's intrigue stops there: the drummer’s hair, the sprightly matching outfits, and perhaps their on-stage camaraderie. Otherwise, these kids seemed a little spaced out, especially in moments where each member seemed to be playing a different song (excusably, these were their ‘experimental’ breakdowns). The young’uns in the audience were excited, but the old’uns were, for the most part, sipping beers in the back, waiting for Liars to come out and turn the lights back down.
Liars were well represented by fans who have followed their multi-phased musical career over the last ten years and who still attend every show, saluting front-man Angus Andrew by shouting along and offering meltdown-caliber screams during the between-song silence. A few songs in, Andrew squinted toward the back of the room and asked, “Can we get some of these lights off?” to which someone near the stage concurred by quipping, “Woooo! Times Square!”
Liars’ freak-out hardcore doesn’t shy away from quieting down to a Radiohead-soft decibel, and should be heard live above all other mediums. Liars’ most recent album, Sisterworld, is textured and at times ambient, which, if drawn upon solely for live performances, could put people to sleep. Recognizing this, Liars remain as dynamic and atmospheric for live shows as they do for the recent album without forgetting that dancing is nice, too. Something transformative, even time warp-ative, happens while watching Liars perform: a quality of any outstanding live band.
