It's a rare thing to get to bring the girl you met on that magical summer vacation back to your hometown to meet your friends. Even rarer for them to love her. Now imagine your folks don't think she's a bad influence, either.
I saw the Thermals three times at SXSW this year (count 'em: Thermals, Thermals, Thermals (and Josh Bean's Thermals shoot, too)). Seeing them in Cambridge, feet away on that tiny Middle East Down stage, brought back the warm fuzzies of sun-tinged, Austin-based, bourbon-y love. Or just rockingly good music.
The Thermals concert was spectacular. They played every song I wanted to hear from both The Body, The Blood, The Machine and the brand new Now We Can See (read Nathan Rostron's fifty-word love-fest). With tremendous energy and a playful attitude toward their adoring (and adorably) young crowd, Hutch and Kathy lit up the darkened venue and sent us out into the night happy and humming. The Thermals play straightforward indie rock, tinted with the punk/grungishness that make the Pacific NW—and the bands hailing therefrom—so well loved. My one complaint on the evening, though, is the flipside of the straightforward nature: there was little variation from their recordings. The songs remained short, superbly accessible, and wholly lacking in detour. This kept the long set moving, but I couldn't help but be a little disappointed at the un-embellished presentation. I have the records, and while the energy of a live show cannot, of course, be matched by the recordings, we do drag ourselves out in the rain for a "little more."
So maybe next time—being my fifth Thermals show—will have a little more noodling and trail-cutting. Even if not, though, there will certainly be a next time. Just make sure you get yourself there. Don't let me take ALL the tickets.
