Cru Jones Society

With Streetlight Manifesto in town tonight, I thought we’d revisit the last time they came through our fair town. I wrote this review 1/7/08 and present it now for your enjoyment.

Artist: Streetlight Manifesto w/Grand Buffet and The Stitch Up
Venue: The Bluebird Theater – Denver, CO
Date: 1.6.07

Streetlight Manifesto is about as big as it gets these days for a ska band. They have a small but intensely loyal fanbase. They’re like the Mad Caddies (my favorite band) – the only difference is that Streetlight can actually sell out the roughly 400 person capacity Bluebird Theater.

Streetlight Manifesto was founded by Tomas Kalnoky when he splintered from his original band, Catch-22, a band that caught fire quickly after its formation. Catch-22 has persevered since Kalnoky’s exit, but most original Catch-22 fans (that I know, anyway) are now Streetlight fans due in large part to Kalnoky’s sandpapered vocals and gatling gun style lyrical delivery. He crams more syllables and complicated, compound words into each stanza than seems physically possible. His delivery speed is truly one of a kind, and if it sounds fast on the album, you’ve seen nothing until you’ve seen him kick it into overdrive at the concert. His speed is absurd.

Before we tackle Streetlight, we must turn our attention to the requisite opening acts. I’ve been going to punk rock shows for at least the last ten years and thus, have probably seen more opening acts than you’ve seen re-runs of Friends and Seinfeld put together. Some turn into stars (Rise Against, The Used, Fallout Boy), some I remember only for scaring the bejeezus out of me (The Dwarves), and others I recall for how ridiculously annoying they were (Bill the Welder, Valient Thorr, Juliana Theory). But most fade from memory with little fanfare or consequence.

I won’t forget either of the two opening acts this night for quite some time.

The Stitch Up didn’t play any music that I’ll remember in a week, but their act was terrific. Their set opened with just the lead singer onstage alone playing a variety of one man tunes. He riffed about how his hometown was lousy with Catholics and how the nuns would say “girls get pregnant when the streetlights come on.” I usually say this sarcastically, but in all honesty: This guy was a real cut-up. His delivery was charming, his stories engaging, and the corresponding songs delightful. It made me reminisce for the time of singer not only as musician, but as storyteller. Stories, good laughs, and fun songs – what else could you ask for? Not much apparently, as the rest of the band joined him half way through one of his songs and proceeded to make by-the-numbers rock/ska/light punk music that you’ve been listening to for the last 15 years or so.

However, they cemented their awesomeness when they invited two fans onstage to compete to play their next song on lead guitar. One kid wearing an ugly thrift store jacket (a ska fan to be sure) was decent, but paled next to his opponent MJ, whom the lead singer referred to as Michael Jackson. MJ won handily and then absolutely shredded the axe, even cutting a guitar solo better than anything I’ve ever heard Derick Whybley play. He was king, and the crowd was stoked! That kid will walk a little taller at his high school tomorrow.

Grand Buffet joined us next, and I still don’t know what to make of them. It’s two white guys – one fat with a bun in his hair, the other skinny and looking like he borrowed the older Pete from The Adventures of Pete & Pete’s DNA.

Yep, they played rap music…

They sang rap tunes as (I think) a joke, but played it straight the whole time. I couldn’t tell if they were serious or not, which fueled this exchange between me and Hart:

Me: I’m pretty sure this is a joke, but I keep waiting for the punchline.

Older Pete’s DNA (from onstage): This next song is about Benjamin Franklin.

Me: There it is.

They espoused a bunch of asinine theories about how 9/11 was actually motivated by pomegranate juice, how Jesus didn’t actually exist, and “things that go hump in the night.” While they said some ridiculously incendiary stuff, they then followed it up by rapping songs for children about tree houses and finding a lost cat. The kicker? The children’s songs were good. Like – as good as any other children’s song I’ve ever heard. Catchy beat, wholesome messages, and a fun chorus that the crowd actually sang along to.

It was one of the most confusing sets I’ve ever seen. If I had to put a finer point on what this was like, I’d say it was like Tony Clifton meets Tenacious D meets any lame rap act from 1993. It was either the most brilliant and advanced comedy act I’ve seen since Tom Green transcended comedy by turning his dad’s car into the Slut Mobile, or it was a couple of semi-clever wiggers acting out their adolescent rap fantasies at a ska show. I’m still not sure, but I like not knowing.

 

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You do the math on this group.

Streetlight Manifesto came on next and melted everyone’s face as usual. These guys bring the intensity, ride you hard, and put you back in the barn wet (God, I’m gay…). It’s a rocket launch from their opening notes until their final encore. Their intensity is not hard to understand once you’ve heard some of their cuts – the blistering pace of the music essentially necessitates it – but watching the audience keep up is a sight to behold. It’s not unusual to see fans sing along to their favorite band, but it’s astonishing to watch fans keep pace with the impossibly breakneck tempo established by Streetlight.

One of the highpoints came when Streetlight sang “Point / Counterpoint.” The song serves more or less as an answer to an earlier song of theirs called “Keasby Nights.” Streetlight sandwiched “Keasby Nights” into the middle of “Point / Counterpoint” creating an awesome mini-medley of goodness. The two songs focus on the same theme and for your edification, I’ve put the choruses below. “Point / Counterpoint” is above, “Keasby Nights” below.

I’ve got a gun in my hand but that gun won’t cock / And my finger’s on the trigger but that trigger seems locked / and I can’t stop staring at the tick tock clock / and even if I could I would never give up. / With a vest on my chest, a bullet in my lung / I can’t believe I’m dying with my song unsung. / And if and when I die won’t you bury me alone? / ‘Cause I’ll never get to heaven if I’m singing this song.

When they come for me, I’ll be sitting at my desk / With a gun in my hand, wearing a bulletproof vest singing / “My, my, my, how the time does fly, when you know you’re going to die / By the end of the night.”

I don’t understand their fascination with guns, but these aren’t the only two songs with lyrics that sound like voiceovers from some 1940s detective movie. “9mm and a Three Piece Suit,” “Dear Sergio,” “Everything Went Numb” and “The Big Sleep” all have some of this weird shit in them. It’s part of Streetlight’s charm as they forego the tired lamentations of failed relationships into truly uncharted territory.

Enhancing this ambience is Streetlight’s physical presentation. Kalnoky stands stage right while the horn players all take center stage. He’s like the narrator or chorus from a Greek play while his brass section acts as the players performing the lyrical and melodic theater of the bizarre. It’s a trip, man.

The Bottom Line: Streetlight Manifesto is an experience. It’s like what all of ska music should have become – fast, inventive and eclectic. Highest recommendation for Streetlight. Also check out The Stitch Up’s lead singer and get confused by Grand Buffet. Fun show. If you’re not busy tonight, Streetlight’s at the Ogden… there are worse ways to spend your Tuesday.