Halloween usually brings out the worst in people — streets filled with broken glass, drug-gluttons partying far beyond their means, and chicks squeezing into outfits Jabba the Hutt would find immodest. But occasionally, it’s also a great excuse to host a slew of talked-up bands, spread word-of-mouth invitations, and facilitate rumored guest appearances all in the name of said holiday. With this in mind, I attended San Francisco’s “secret” Renegade Halloween party on Saturday night. Hosted by such taste-makers/labels as Yours Truly, Underwater Peoples, and Blood Drank Magazine, I knew I’d be getting my lo-fi fix. It turned out to be a night filled with seven bands, unlimited free booze, and a 4 AM denouement; what a fix it was.
This isn’t to say this kind of sensory (and alcoholic) overload goes completely without consequence. Dressed as my favorite character from my favorite 90s movie of all time — the single-scene appearing, panama hat-wearing, shaving cream-touting bagman Dodgson from Jurassic Park — I doubt I was the only costumer less than enthused with the poor sound quality for most of the acts. Were the bizarre acoustics of The Common to blame? It’s hard to say. Basically, shit was loud… really loud. Decibel-wise, it’s not that all the groups were completely indecipherable from one another — SF’s mime-wearing, Smiths-/Cure-alike Magic Bullets brought a welcome charisma along with cranked-up pop musings. But for another SF band I’d heard a good deal of buzz about — Young Prisms — the peaked volume and the hypnotic rhythms resulted in dizziness rather than entrancement. In a different context I might’ve enjoyed the psych-out, but what with all the free booze, I had to sit down.
An early regret was missing the full set of one-man, LA-based opener Speculator. Catching his final tune, which sounded ultra-murky yet surprisingly pleasant, I was later reminded of a TMT interview he did last March. Meeting the singer, who informed me of his respect for music mags that hate on artists and that his Ecstasy still hadn’t worn off, it probably could’ve been less of a vibe-out. Still, a party is a party, and few bands understood this better than locals Dominant Legs. Bringing the funk with well-calculated, strummed seventh chords, it was nice to hear a steady groove instead of wave upon wave of reverb. As Melted Toys singer, briefly flustered onstage, put it earlier: “I used to think it wasn’t possible to have too much reverb. Guess I was wrong.”
And maybe that’s another contributing factor to the groups who melded together into indistinguishability. For example, as much as I dug Slumberland-signed Weekend’s heavy, swirling sounds, the trio’s tunes weren’t exactly enhanced by the thick coat of echo. It’d be easy to quip, “Oh, you’re just not sophisticated enough to know the difference.” And maybe there’s some truth there. But, hell, I know what guitars and vocals can sound like when they’re not completely buried beneath reverb and chorus. And if there’s a perfect example of what happens when effects compliment rather than befuddle, it was seen in headlining act, New Jersey natives Real Estate.
As iPhone clocks were striking 3:30 AM before the Deerhunter-tourmates finally hit the stage, rumors concerning an Atlas Sound appearance had all but dissipated and the best costumers (Tim & Eric Awesome Show’s The Snuggler, Mia Farrow of Rosemary’s Baby, etc.) including San Francisco darlings Girls, had all but split. Nevertheless, Real Estate brought an incredibly welcome change of atmosphere. As if everyone in the crowd momentarily forgot what crystal-clear vocals and solid, intricate musicianship sounded like, the Woodsist-label group weren’t afraid to remind us. With a punctuated, rhythmic gallop and woozy twang, selections off their most recent self-titled album had a special feeling of urgency. Or maybe, in light of the endurance-testing program, the band was eager to keep things short and sweet. Either way, standout “Fake Blues” — a folk-rock tune in the same way Pavement’s “Folk Jam” is a folk-rock tune — never sounded so immediate and ultra-catchy. The solid bass playing of Alex Bleeker (and The Freaks) and complimentary guitar riffing by Matt Mondanile (Ducktails) shouldn’t go unnoticed.
As Real Estate ended the relatively short set with quick instrumental “Atlantic City,” not only did I wish it wasn’t 4 AM, but that my eardrums, in at least some small capacity, still existed. Regardless, I was thankful to spend Halloween eve filled with loud, but worthwhile bands and relatively friendly folks. And even if Halloween brings out the worst in people — thanks, whoever popped my tires! — there’s also something to be said for seeing another dressed in an equally bizarre costume as you. Me: “Wait, you’re Sharon Tate from the Manson Murder?!” Person: “Yeah. Too soon?”
