Can You Feel It?

Often I go to shows without knowing much about the band, as was the case last night, when J. asked me at the last minute if I'd be up for joining him at Double Door.

I hate to overuse "magical," but the energy in the club bordered on magical, and when Dick Valentine of Electric Six asked, "Can you feel it?" it was obvious that despite his one or two big hits, the erratic touring, and the broke life he kept referring to ("No big light shows! No budget!" was a constant refrain) he was "feeling it," whatever it was, and it showed on his face, which looked happy, alert, and pumped from what I'm guessing was a natural, happy-to-be-here-high.

Valentine wore a pin-stripe suit, and with his boyish face, and small frame he kind of looked like a devious Micheal J. Fox. Within the first couple sets Valentine tore off his suit jacket, and waved it around as the twenty-somethings swooned, holding hands high. He twirled the jacket a few more times, and then kind of hesitated, and held onto it.

He reminded me of Linus from Peanuts, and his blanket, or more likely of a rock star too broke to give away the clothing off his back, though I have a feeling if Electric Six were headlining big shows or selling more music he'd have parted with his jacket in a heartbeat.

I was pleasantly surprised that I ended up knowing Electric Six's music. Both their "Gay Bar," and "Danger! High Voltage" hits were introduced to me by my ex maybe five or six years ago, and initially I thought Electric Six was covering the songs, since I can never remember band names. Post-show research confirmed the hits belong to Electric Six, which made the show more special, as I'd seen their hilarious High Voltage video a bunch of times, and love it. In fact, "Fire in the disco!" was a song lyric tic I could not get out of my head a few years back, and now, for better or worse, it's back. Fire in the disco! Fire in the Taco Bell!

Bang Camero opened for Electric Six, and initially I told J. that I loosely knew of the group, and that the lead singer of Bang Camero would be this guy that works at at shoe store in the neighborhood, and wears weird, jagged ties that he designs himself.

I was wrong. It turns out that both band names share the word "bang," but that's where the similarities end. Bang Camero consists of 14 guys that seem like they descended from the same Boston basement. I wondered how they can survive on the road, with their gig money, which I can't imagine is much, much less after broken down 14 ways.

Yeah, that's 14 guys, all crammed onto Double Door's small stage. All 14 looked like they were having a blast. The riffs were comically long, screechingly loud. There was a lot of long hair between them, of varying degrees of thickness, along with no shortage of head banging.

I found myself unconsciously banging my head along with Bang Camero, too. J. seemed bemused. I didn't expect to enjoy the show as much as I did, and I think it was because both bands seemed genuinely happy to be there. I've been to a Death Cab show where Ben Gibbard spent most of his time between sets bitching on stage about how tired he is from touring. Calling for an encore from Gibbard had felt like pulling teeth, whereas Electric Six kept the magic going for three songs past the show's end. The crowd returned the favor by staying almost entirely put, swaying, and fist pumping until the lights that weren't the big light shows Valentine envisioned went out.