02.10.07 :: Grizzly Bear :: Seventh St. Entry

Honestly? I had no idea that Grizzly Bear would sell out the Seventh St. Entry. I wasn't sure if they had really broken through from critically-acclaimed to buzz band, but I guess they have. I arrived late, due to some festivities that needed taking care of beforehand, but just in time to catch what I believe to have been their first song, "Lullabye." I had been hoping to get close enough to get some good pics, but as you can see (see above) I was stuck in the back. I'll be sure to arrive early next time because Grizzly Bear put on one hell of a show.

First, the piddly stuff: Chris Taylor (bass, vocals, sundry) has a crazy mofo voice when he wants to use it. Apparently, the sort of creepy/urgent/falsetto vocals that warp around the post-verse section are just him, straight up and live, because he basically duplicated the sound of it exactly live. One of the things about Grizzly Bear that makes them really great is the way that moments, not songs, but little moments within songs, will evoke bands spaced further apart than the intervals in stride piano, and then just breeze on. T. Rex (thanks to Taylor's vocals) came to mind for that moment, but also Neil Young's countrier stuff, Modern English and other New Romantic '80s bands and lots of other touchstones are all living up inside their music, and it's nice the way they all let them step forward in minor ways throughout a set.

Another thing that was really brought home by the live performance is how much weight is placed on the vocals, given that all four members can sing and often do, blending into ragged but beautiful four-part harmony. It made me realize that bands often end up putting more weight on one side of the vocal/instrumental fence. Many do it consciously, but most do it subconsciously, and the result is overcompensation one way or the other. Grizzly Bear were very well-balanced in this respect. And despite the paucity of texture when compared to their album, the live show was mesmerizing, largely for the way they used their voices.

Which brings me to the last thing I want to say about them. The thing which really makes them a great band is that their songs, despite seeming so fragile a lot of the time, are durable enough to be bent and re-shaped in a live context in a way which renews them and invigorates them, without it sounding for one moment like a self-conscious process. Lots of bands will re-work songs for a live context when they find them unperformable in their recorded form, but the bulk of the time, you can tell they're doing something to it. "Let's speed it up!" or "Let's cut out the drums and make it a ballad!" but Grizzly Bear are having none of that. There's a strong fibrous core to their stuff, and they're smart enough to cut a bud off that core and replant it in the live context, letting it grow as it sees fit. A lot of the time, front man (kind of, but he's the one who gets all the press) Ed Droste didn't even play an instrument, content to just sing, which seems amazing, given the sheer amount of sound on Yellow House. He often seemed entirely uncomfortable with the role, tentatively wrapping his hands around the mic stand. The lack of outward bravado was heartwarming, even as the musical bravado carried the day.