I'm not a tastemaker. I'm generally the type of person to whom others have to introduce new music, not the other way around. Although both of Foals' albums have found their way to the UK's top 10 charts, I'd never heard of them before they came to Portland last Thursday. I now find myself wondering how I managed to get through the last two years without knowing they existed.
Foals played to a sold-out crowd at the Doug Fir Lounge - one that showed up with asses that were ready to shake. "Miami" sent Portlanders into an astonishingly hot, Cliff Huxtable-meets-stripper slow grind which gradually gained momentum and a touch of frenzy as frontman Yannis Phillippakis stood on his monitor and then exploded into a furiously writhing, guitar-wielding paroxysm. This continued and concluded with Phillippakis falling over bassist Walter Gervers' monitor without losing a beat during the title track of their latest album, Total Life Forever.
The show was a wash of sweat, light, heat and good manners. The sound was perfect. Perfect. It was a such a gorgeous sonic experience that I didn't even mind getting beaned on the head by the headstock of Jimmy Smith's Les Paul in the midst of a rather low-flying rockout. I was a bit mortified that he stopped playing to check on my health, but in retrospect it makes me like the band all the more.
Dear Foals: come back soon. Love, inger