Bloc Party
Y
April 11, 2005
Ballroom, New York
Thursday, April 7
A critically acclaimed British band that recalls the mournful postpunk sounds of Margaret Thatcher's England, Bloc Party brought their jangling Telecasters and anguished yelping to a deliriously cheering sold-out Bowery Ballroom crowd.
Many in the audience Thursday were too young to have enjoyed the Cure when that group was considered a college band. Although he undeniably recalls the warbling of Robert Smith, Bloc Party singer Kele Okereke at times also echoes the stark sincerity of Terry Hall of the Specials and Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks.
Opening with the first track of the band's Vice/Atlantic debut "Silent Alarm," Okereke mused, "It's so cold in this house," as the group deified its roots in the alternative underground music of yesterday on the plaintive "Like Eating Glass." With driving bass lines fueling the music, the comparisons to early songs of the Cure are not without merit: Much of what Bloc Party does sounds like variations on "Boys Don't Cry." The similarity also was particularly evident on "Banquet."
In a city where sarcasm comes fast and cheap and irony is always in vogue, it's difficult to gauge whether the crowd truly fancied the band or was merely enjoying an '80s nostalgia as disposable as the old CD longbox. But when Jason Flom, the chairman of Atlantic Records, can be spied smiling and bobbing his head to "Helicopter" and industry folk from competing labels are seen dancing alongside the hipsters who flocked to this show, it's hard to refute the overwhelming appeal of this blissfully blue band.
Their engaging charm overcomes the solemnity of their songs, and the self-awareness of Bloc Party is wholly disarming. Okereke's banter was the stuff of self-effacing comedy. The band joked with the crowd, playing licks from Interpol and the Killers between songs. Midshow, the vocalist asked members of the audience how much they paid to get in, then exclaimed: "Two hundred dollars? You got ripped off!"
During a set that clocked in at just less than an hour, Bloc Party played almost every song off their debut. The band returned with a four-song encore that featured the more upbeat guitars of "So Here We Are" and "Price of Gas."
To older ears, they might be jumping someone else's train, but Bloc Party's high-energy moping is the timeless stuff of mix-tape crushes and unrequited love.
Thursday, April 7
A critically acclaimed British band that recalls the mournful postpunk sounds of Margaret Thatcher's England, Bloc Party brought their jangling Telecasters and anguished yelping to a deliriously cheering sold-out Bowery Ballroom crowd.
Many in the audience Thursday were too young to have enjoyed the Cure when that group was considered a college band. Although he undeniably recalls the warbling of Robert Smith, Bloc Party singer Kele Okereke at times also echoes the stark sincerity of Terry Hall of the Specials and Pete Shelley of the Buzzcocks.
Opening with the first track of the band's Vice/Atlantic debut "Silent Alarm," Okereke mused, "It's so cold in this house," as the group deified its roots in the alternative underground music of yesterday on the plaintive "Like Eating Glass." With driving bass lines fueling the music, the comparisons to early songs of the Cure are not without merit: Much of what Bloc Party does sounds like variations on "Boys Don't Cry." The similarity also was particularly evident on "Banquet."
In a city where sarcasm comes fast and cheap and irony is always in vogue, it's difficult to gauge whether the crowd truly fancied the band or was merely enjoying an '80s nostalgia as disposable as the old CD longbox. But when Jason Flom, the chairman of Atlantic Records, can be spied smiling and bobbing his head to "Helicopter" and industry folk from competing labels are seen dancing alongside the hipsters who flocked to this show, it's hard to refute the overwhelming appeal of this blissfully blue band.
Their engaging charm overcomes the solemnity of their songs, and the self-awareness of Bloc Party is wholly disarming. Okereke's banter was the stuff of self-effacing comedy. The band joked with the crowd, playing licks from Interpol and the Killers between songs. Midshow, the vocalist asked members of the audience how much they paid to get in, then exclaimed: "Two hundred dollars? You got ripped off!"
During a set that clocked in at just less than an hour, Bloc Party played almost every song off their debut. The band returned with a four-song encore that featured the more upbeat guitars of "So Here We Are" and "Price of Gas."
To older ears, they might be jumping someone else's train, but Bloc Party's high-energy moping is the timeless stuff of mix-tape crushes and unrequited love.
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