The Soundtrack of our lives , Matt Mays & El Torpedo and American Minor at the Guvernment, March 26. Tickets: $25.75. Attendance: 800. Rating: NN Rating: NN
Last Saturday’s all-ages show took the term “all-ages” to a new level.
The early 6:30 showtime turned the Guvernment into Romper Room, the only audience members being seven- and eight-year-old kids playing tag around the beefcake bouncers. This wasn’t exactly welcoming for Southern rawk openers American Minor .
After a few smarmy comments about Canada from lead singer Robert McCutcheon , these West Virginian youngsters deserved the sparse audience’s uncomfortable silence. They all looked like clones of Jason Lee from Almost Famous, right down to jeans so tight you could see the dates on the dimes in their pockets. And oddly enough, they kinda sounded like Stillwater. These boys have some raw potential, but seemed inexperienced and awkward onstage even in front of only 12 people.
By the time headliners the Soundtrack of Our Lives came on, the sausage party was out of control. Women were way outnumbered by men, and when a bloated Brian Wilson-like Viking charged onstage, I knew I was in for a night of egos. Vocalist Ebbot Lundberg , draped in a black-and-white kaftan, looked like the New Age priest of a Scandinavian cult, and definitely suffers from a Jesus complex, posing as if crucified instead of giving us dance moves. Where do you get kaftans?
The band started out with Believe I’ve Found, from their newest album, Origin, Vol.1, and continued to rock out with their homogenized psychedelic sound and overdose of Pink Floyd-style experimentation.
All the buzz for TSOOL has to be about their high-energy stage presence, because it ain’t about the voices. As usual, the Guvernment demonstrated the worst sound in town, which didn’t help with the limp singing. Organ/keyboard player Olle Hagberg was on fire, but the instruments ended up completely overshadowing the vocals.
What TSOOL lack in voice power, they definitely make up for in the lost art of showmanship. Lundberg’s huge presence is overpowering. Beating his tamborine into submission, he mesmerized the audience, who went absolutely nuts for the Swedes. Even the kids were still hanging out at the end, while Lundberg invited everyone else to the El Mocambo for Blow Up’s last shindig.
