Free shows are for the unemployed. This fact used to piss me off…when I had a job. Two years ago, I remember leaving work early and racing all the way downtown to see one of my favorite bands, Spoon, play a free show at Castle Clinton, only to be among the hundreds of fans who were beaten to the punch by the reserve army of the unemployed. I finally made up for that day by seeing Spoon play a terrific free show at the Virgin record store yesterday.
Spoon are, to my mind, the band of the decade. They are exactly the sort of band that rock geeks long for: a tight little band, a sympathetic voice, a distinctive sound, a little mystery and lyrics that you sing along to before you even know what they are. I first read about the band in Camden Joy’s review of their record company kiss-off single. It was the best bit of rock criticism this side of Lester Bangs, perfectly encapsulating all of the unfulfilled promise of rock in the 90’s and pinning all of our rock geek hopes on this little Austin band that had just been unceremoniously dumped from their corporate record label. Who could resist that? I tracked the record that Elektra thought wasn’t good enough. It was great, all jagged guitars, congested vocals and pure power pop.
A funny thing happened when the band reappeared on the indie Merge record label. Their sound changed; it matured, expanded and hollowed out. The piano replaced the guitar as the dominant instrument. Drum and bass hooks anchored the songs. Guitars only punctuated open holes in the songs, which better allowed the listener to hear Britt Daniels’ quarter-life crisis lyrics. The songs are all rising action; unresolved tension waiting for a climax that might not come for three more songs.
Spoon makes records; complete, perfect statements that are meant to be heard in unison. (Daniels sighed and mumbled about the “iPod generation” yesterday when a pretty indie princess yelled out for tracks “4 and 11.”) Each new one feels like an instant classic, with evocative titles like “Girls Can Tell” and “Kill The Moonlight,” crisp, minimalist cover art and never a band shot (which is always a cool statement, but more so when the lead singer is a conventionally handsome gent).
Spoon’s latest record, “Gimme Fiction,” was released yesterday. It feels like a minor classic. Daniels’ has expanded his lyrical touchstones from post-adolescent angst to include some mythology and has thrown more guitar noise into the mix. Unlike the last two records, this one contains two or three songs that seem distinctly like filler, but it also adds a number of songs that will become a beloved part the band’s repertoire for years. “I Turn My Camera On” is sexy disco rock. “The Two Sides of Monsieur Valentine” is fun and bouncy, and “I Summon You” is an insistent and lovely ballad. “Sister Jack,” which was an acoustic ballad when Britt Daniel played a solo warm-up show at Maxwell’s last year, is now a power pop rave-up, the album’s clear climax. It’s one of the year’s best.