Friday 25 June 2010

May Live Review: Neon Indian

NEON INDIAN a texas-born band fronted by 22-year-old Alan Palomo took the stage at East London's CAMP basement and played through their debut PSYCHIC CHASMS. Loving an album from start to finish is a rare occurrence but Psychic Chasms is most certainly an exception. So tonight my expectations were rather high. Having a bevy of live shows already neatly tucked behind their belt the synth-pop quartet kick it off with “6669 (I Don’t Know If You Know)” and played a tight show yet something was missing. 

It has been strongly recommended by many that this 1980's dream-weave music should definitely not be heard out of the speakers of a mere laptop. To do this would only degenerate the quality and purpose of what Palomo and co. are trying to create. But tonight it felt like I was listening to Psychic Chasms through a computer's tinny speakers and as a result the spin tingling chill, usually incited by the American band was no-where to be found.

Well known “Psychic Charms” and “Should Have Taken Acid With You” are well received by the crowd yet as much as I tried to close my eyes; gently swaying to the music, it seemed the most-anticipated depth was lacking. Nothing reverberated within my cavity. It was dull, almost life-less. Due to the ridiculously low sound on Palomo's microphone, the lead's vocals were unfortunately drowned out by Ronald Gierhart's electric strummings. It was as if we were listing to a band sans its singer. However, eventually I did muster up the courage to tap Palomo on the leg before explaining that the rest of us hadn't heard a word he'd 'said' all night. And they did turn it up, just in time for the last songs: “Deadbeat Summer” and “Ephemeral Artery”. Physically Palomo had all the right moves. His body convulsed in time with the spasmic, lofi crackles and pops of “Psychic Chasms” yet it is a shame that live such an amazing band, with one exquisite album, failed to share their aural treasures due to mere technical difficulties.

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I am more than prone to monologues; however, this is solely due to the manner in which they compliment a witty anecdote and their ability to resemble concrete evidence when it is so obviously lacking. I often wish I could emulate that aloof character who coolly stands in the corner smiling mysteriously as if she has a secret. However, I fear resisting the temptation to involve myself in other people’s conflicts and responding through body language rather than verbose banter may come across as contrived and arrogant. And, I am not willing to take that chance.

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