“Apparently we are in a meteorological emergency! I like that, we can deal with that,” began Plants and Animals' guitar-vocalist Warren Spicer, in an endearing Canadian twang. I'll give the venue Johnny Brenda's credit; as far as relatively dog-eared joints go, it certainly boasts some top grade, dependable performers. The crowd turnout was mild, unlike the (what seemed like) sub-zero temperature and glacial snowstorm that had me calling to see if the band was still showing up.
Show up they did. And not without a stellar local opening act, Rarebirds, who played to supportive friends and family, and the rest of those who braved the weather conditions. The five-person band showcased lead singer Carolynne McNeel’s song-writing skills and had this non–family member impressed.
Representative of its neighborhood in Fishtown, Johnny Brenda’s isn’t insecure with its seemingly dodgy location. You either love it, or leave it. If you didn’t arrive with a posse, though, don’t expect to be initiated; this place definitely has its (peeling) walls up, although if you’re comfortable here it’s about as down-to-earth as dirt. The up-and-coming Canadian group Plants and Animals of Parc Avenue fame is only one of the well-known bands that have recently graced the cozy stage at Johnny Brenda’s. A multi-level venue, there’s an intimate, relaxed vibe downstairs that only wafts upstairs.
With dimly lit red and white votives that rest on a couple of wood tables, along with a backdrop of vine-like green lights on stage, expect to feel like you’re entering the Lost Boy’s abode in Neverland as you go to the second floor. There's a small staircase that leads to a balcony that overlooks the performers, so if you’d like to remain even more aloof, you can continue up a third flight.
Standing in the very back you’re still close enough to touch the band. This particular night, indie rockers were drinking with kids wearing North Face jackets, while a couple of people looked like they walked into the room by accident. Then again, it’s perfectly representative of Philly itself: a complete hotbed for an eclectic crowd. And what speaks more highly of a band than a random, can’t-pick-them-out-of-a-line-up set of groupies?
When Plants and Animals finally took stage, the crowd was trickling in. If they were let down by the turn out, they didn’t act it. Guitar-vocalist Nic Basque played in jeans and a white t-shirt, as if he rolled out of bed and onto the stage. He especially kept the tiny swarm of a crowd energized, even though the bass player from Rarebirds seemed like the only one psyched to be listening. Basque’s woodsier counterpart, drummer-vocalist Matthew Woodley, also sported a hoodie, though the whole shoddy look worked for them both. The playing, though, was anything but shoddy.
As a more clean-cut Spicer sang the lyrics “I wanna dance, I wanna dance, I wanna dance,” from the track "Good Friend," the audience (who at this point looked as if they all wanted to take a seat) began to get more into the band, and it was clear these guys weren’t a bunch of fun-loving tree huggers—they had some real talent! I even saw a few feet move in the crowd when they sang their popular song "Bye Bye Bye" (in an admittedly cliché manner, as the final song in their set). I was continually impressed by the flexible quality of Spicer’s voice; from country, to artsy, to mimicking others’ inflections.
I was pumped when they played my favorite song “Mercy.” The striking beginning guitar hook is reminiscent of a stroll through a heavily wooded area. As far out as that analogy seems, I can imagine myself making my way through the woods during the intro, and finding a large clearing by the time they hit the catchier part of the song. Clearly, it was a band favorite as well as they encored the entire intro. I felt like an outsider when the boys were jamming out, aware of the intimacy of the song and impressed by the energy they expelled even with the thinning crowd.
After the show I forced myself to briefly shake Basque’s hand. “I’m so glad you played 'Mercy'. It’s my favorite song,” I gushed. If he was taken aback by my quick (ok, slightly awkward) encounter, he didn’t show it, but merely smiled and said a nice thanks. As I walked out of the place, I overheard two men who looked like they hopped off motorcycles saying how he had made the entire show for them. As I made my way downstairs, I could hear the band members speaking to fans. Despite the small audience and crappy weather, Plants and Animals still delivered with more enthusiasm than I’d seen in some bands playing at sold-out venues; now that’s passion.
