10/31/11 Happy Halloween you bastards
Yesterday afternoon Amanda was checking the site for We Were Promised Jetpacks, which is her favorite band. She knew for the past few weeks they were playing in New York. She told me they were playing at Webster Hall that night. For the record, I took Emma Tess to more concerts; the last was 30 Seconds to Mars in Boston last May. Recently I bought Emma Tess a gold ticket for 30 Seconds since the band offers their rampant fans the chance to meet them for a steep price. What a scam for a corporate band. I don’t care to divulge how much I paid a horrible arrogant actor, but when Amanda said tickets were available to We Were Promised… and they were only $20, I said I’d take her. You want to go, let’s go. She wasn’t sure if she should go, this was her nerves talking, telling her to be nervous and stay nervous and stay home. When I was her age, I dreamed of seeing a show. When Emma agreed to join us, Amanda was excited. Since it was later that night, I had time for a decent run down to the beach and back. It was an opportunity to be alone and delve into my thoughts. After a shower and an early dinner we headed into the city. We were early, so instead of going in, we walked around lower Broadway. Saw Astor haircutters where I got one short cut when attending Purchase College twenty five years ago. It was cold last night. Emma wore a skirt so we headed into Webster Hall as Bear Hands was playing. Up old cracked white marble steps and into the expansive hall which had an ornate ceiling with a balcony where the sound board was. A large pentagram dangled over the stage, goodness knows it was for Halloween. A large bar was in the back. Off to one side of the venue was a long table where you could buy a t-shirt and CD’s…on the opposite side, was another bar and a small store where I bought three pairs of ear plugs. I bought a beer and listened to Bear Hands, thought they were a strong band till they got carried away with the shit synth pop sound and they lost me. I had the same reaction with the second opening band, Royal Bang who hit the stage with a in your face kick ass, but fizzled to a Southern drawl by their last song. So much hope. I will be honest, I didn’t know what to expect when We Were Promised Jetpacks. Based on the two previous bands, they’d have a synthesizer, a guitar player and drummer…so I was surprised when the young Scots casually walked out on the stage and kicked fucking ass. Each song was like a tidal wave that crashed into the audience and then washed over any of my doubts. Their lyrics were sung back to them with intoxicated slurred words, loose limbs and exuberance. Their singer had a bashful smile, nodded and we all knew what he was thinking, “Shit, they know my words.”
Based on the play list that Emma caught after the bassist threw his list into the crowd - this is what we heard:
Circles & Squares
Quiet Little Voices
Medicine
Picture of Health
Roll up your Sleeves
Keeping Warm
Dirt and Gravel
This is my house, this is my home
Boy in the backseat
Sore Thumb
Human Error
Ships with holes will sink
Pear Tree
It’s Thunder and Lightning
We Were Promised Jet Packs can make its genuine mark on the scene, if they continue to search for their original sound. It’s a daunting task, but this band is poised to become one of the best. Keep an eye on them and see them before they charge ridiculous fees. I heard fragments of Bloc Party, U2 and another band from my generation, Big Country, since they had a large sound that thundered the walls in Webster Hall. The singer, Adam Thompson has an incredible trained voice with a perfect pitch. The way he stood back as his voice became faint sounded like a distant scream. His lyrics touched on his experiences and drew me in. I think I found the band I was searching for and for an old fart like me it feels good to discover a new sound as well as the relief to know there are bands making good music without shit synth pop or posing for the cameras. This band has what it takes, they can bridge generations....
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