Ghostland, Observed

The fourth annual KEXP BBQ took place on a day that couldn't have been much prettier. Not a cloud in the sky, so Seattlest was diligent about applying tons o' sunblock and sticking to the shade. This year, the event was all ages, meaning that the area in front of the stage was divided into drunk and sober sections, and the audience featured a lot of cute wittle babies. We witnessed a grand total of four breast-feeding sessions, which we found to be unnatural and borderline obscene.

The festivities kicked off at 3pm with Thee Emergency, one of the two "secret" bands unannounced ahead of time. While the singer has a big voice and the musicians are all solid, the performance suffered from lame stage banter (yes, we know it's hot up there) and too much song in-between time.

DeVotchKa (the other secret band) was up next. We've been interested in their gypsy dance music for a while, but hadn't caught them in the flesh until now. Live, the band totally delivered, complete with upright bass, violin, and a surprisingly active sousaphone player. They even did a klezmer-tinged cover of "Venus in Furs."

And then there was Ghostland Observatory. For the duration of the set, the crowd was way into it, with a lot of dancing and arms in the air (most of which were waving like they just didn't care). We know that a lot of hipsters totally cream their panties for this Austin-based duo, but we just don't get the appeal. GO is fine in small doses, but forty-five minutes of synths and shrieking is too much for us.

Plus, there is the issue of The Cape. As in, drummer/keyboardist/effects guy Thomas Turner wears a full-length satiny blue cape. Here, let's have a closer look. We're not sure which came first: the cape or the band, but either way, no me gusta. By the end of the set, we were convinced that Heidi-braided lead singer Aaron Behrens was possessed or perhaps Pentecostal, as he was certainly speaking in tongues. The band did an encore featuring a new song, which culminated with Behrens' grand mal seizure.

At this point, the crowd started to thin out, just in time for the fourth and final band on the docket, the Long Winters. Kinda of an odd way to the end the evening, to go from a crowd incredibly hyped for Ghostland to a mostly indifferent audience for a meh band. It's not that John Roderick is a terrible musician, but more that he doesn't offer anything new, and with each album comes diminishing returns. The sun going down, in a crowd full of white people nodding along to by-the-books songwriting, one of our companions noted that the moment was a lot like Seattle as a whole: Cool, but still kinda lame. We couldn't agree more.

Photos care of Flickr / user Chris B.