I hadn't planned to go to another concert, the day after getting home from California. But a friend had tickets to see Failure at Neumos, and offered me a free ticket if I'd drive to the show.
The band didn't have an opening act -- at least, not one that stood on stage and played instruments. They began the show with a Ren & Stimpy cartoon, followed by a 30-minute film consisting of various musicians -- some well-known (Butch Vig, Hayley Williams, Jason Schwartzman), others I'd never heard of (and can't recall their names) -- all talking about what a unique, incredible band Failure is, how hearing their music changed their lives, etc. I was really put off by this; we've bought the tickets, we've come to the show, we don't need to be told this is an exceptional band. This sort of thing may be good for a documentary -- and I was told later, they're in the midst of making one. But to show an audience that's paid to see the band? Come on now.
But my pique soon was forgotten, as the band took the stage. This show was a quantum leap over the show I saw a few years ago at El Corazon, where the acoustics had blunted their attack, and the stage fog and backlighting had made it seem as if it might be any three guys on stage. This time, the band was lit from the front, and the drum kit was moved up to the lip of center stage, so fans who wanted to watch Kelli Scott all night could feast their eyes. Ken Andrews and Greg Edwards switched between guitar and bass every few songs, with Greg focusing on keyboards from time to time. The acoustics at Neumos were way more suited to this band's sonics.
It's hard for me to pick out any standout moments; the trio just seemed to move from strength to strength all evening. When they came back for the encore, Ken thanked Seattle (his hometown) for their long support, and said they would close with a few songs from an album that "most people we've talked to seem to think is our best."
After the show, my friend asked if they had "redeemed themselves" -- referring to my undisguised irritation at their self-advertisement at the beginning. I thought about it, and told him no -- not because I still bore them any resentment, but because I'd sort of compartmentalized the two parts of the evening. The film was the film, and the live show was the live show; by the end of the latter, I felt as if the former was a separate experience, somehow. On the way out, I noticed a flyer or two posted around the room, stating that the show was going to begin with the 30-minute film. Well, I can't say they didn't warn me.
SETLIST:
Submarines
Mercury Mouth
Macaque
Wonderful Life
Frogs
Atom City Queen
Counterfeit Sky
Distorted Fields
Force Fed Future
Bring Back the Sound
Bad Translation
Half Moon
Headstand
ENCORE:
Segue 3
The Nurse Who Loved Me
Another Space Song
Stuck on You
Heliotropic
Daylight
Postscript: I mentioned in an earlier post that I'd evidently caught CoVid in California. (Both my concert buddies are coping with it now too.) Quite regrettably, my friend came down with CoVid around the same time I did. But everyone's hanging in there.
