(TV) Chicago review (verbose)

[Maurice Rickard <maurice@mac.com>]

Such as it is, here's my take on the Chicago show, painstakingly put 
together here and there, as I've been digging my way out from the, 
like, four projects I'm finishing.  While I'm typing this up over the 
course of a couple weeks after the fact, I was jotting down notes 
after the show, while my impressions were still fresh.  (I'll point 
out that Eric had to wait even longer for a review I owed him.)

For those of you with busy lives or who are easily bored, there's the 
executive summary at the top.  The geeky blow-by-blow part follows. 
So here it is, just in time for people getting stoked for Seattle!


So.  We've seen Television--amazing, and for a while I wasn't sure it would be.

A quick summary:  Promising, energetic, and at times...not quite 
focused, or something.  The band would get pumped up, play tight, 
interact, and then something would dissipate the energy.  It's always 
hard to enjoy a show for what it is when you're expecting something, 
and--even though I should have resisted the urge, I kept waiting for 
the transcendent moment which was approached several times, and not 
fully embraced.  But--as you know by now--that moment did come, and 
it was during "Marquee Moon."  (More on that below.)

Why the dissipation?  Leo predicted that the three-week layoff might 
suck some energy out of the band, which is indeed possible.  Could be 
unfamiliar equipment, since Tom's guitar seemed new, and Richard 
played two guitars we hadn't seen before.  I also somehow picked up 
the impression that Tom was fighting a cold or something.  Now that I 
think about it, I can't pin down where I got the idea from, but...I 
did get that impression.

Overall, the older material seemed to gel a bit better, but the 
material from the third album definitely took on a life of its own, 
particularly "The Rocket" and "Rhyme."  Billy was as inventive as one 
would hope; Fred was steady and cool; and Richard and Tom played very 
well.  Paradoxically, however, it seemed from time to time that the 
band had lost its edge, or wasn't as tight as it could have been, 
quite possibly a result of the downtime.

There could also be some question of how relations are within the 
band--Richard stood way off to stage left, on his own.  Everyone's 
facial expressions seemed disengaged or even slightly annoyed when 
playing, but Richard laughed at Tom's "We bought new clooooothes for 
this gig" joke, and Tom seemed to be enjoying himself from time to 
time in these asides (like the "Yuh, right" response to requests for 
"Fire Engine" and "Elevation").   Who knows, it might have been the 
effect of concentrating on their actual playing.  I'm not 
complaining, though--it was indeed a thrill to see and hear them 
live, and it was great to hook up with the mailing list folks, all of 
them very cool and different.


Now for the loads-of-detail version:

The evening began at Heaven on Seven on Clark.  Rick "Soul Ticket" 
Greenwald's suggestion to have dinner here was greatly inspired--a 
fantastic Cajun place.  The Congress Plaza contingent (Scott, Leo, 
Patricia and I) showed up a bit early, just as the torrential rain 
was starting.  Rick had made our reservations under the 
name...Television, of course.  We sat down to wait the arrival of the 
others.  As the full-length doors to the patio were open, the wind 
had blown in many blossoms, which were strewn about the floor.  Nice 
touch.  Rick arrived in the middle of the downpour, and shortly 
thereafter Philip showed up in his Television shirt.  Another 
contingent (headed up by Heath) joined us a bit later--they win the 
award for distance, having travelled from LA.  Great folks, all. 
Dinner was good indeed--the Voodoo dishes are quite tasty, and 
produce a great endorphin buzz.  (I've reported on my hot food 
tolerance here before, so scale accordingly.)  By the time we left, 
the rain had stopped.  Time to stroll to the gig.

The Metro is a once-grand theatre that seems to have endured some 
long-ago psychic trauma, followed by decades of casual abuse as it 
bumps slowly toward decay.  Still, some grandeur lingers in the 
ornaments about the high ceiling and around the proscenium.  No 
seating, as we'd learned (for the likes of us, anyway).  Leo had done 
some advance reconnaissance the night before, and found that the best 
view was from the floor, as close to the stage as one could push. 
The place was packed, though.  Most of our little group was off to 
the left, what clearly looked to be Tom's side.

I found the openers, Preston School of Industry (Scott Kannberg), 
quite likeable.  Amusingly, Leo leaned over at one point during their 
set, and said, "If I know you, you're writing a review in your head: 
nice rhythm guitar, not enough soloing."  Which was pretty accurate. 
Kannberg has that steady post-Velvets pop-strumming thing down cold. 
It's good in its way, but tends toward sameyness.  Fortunately, the 
arrangements (keys/flugelhorn, bass, drums, guitar/vocals) varied a 
bit, although at times seemed, I dunno, Springsteeny or something. 
When Kannberg soloed or contributed feedback noise, or when the 
flugelhorn came out, those moments revealed the real promise of the 
band.  Mostly, Kannberg was content to hold down rhythm and let the 
bassist do the solos.  Fine, but I would have liked more guitar 
soloing and melodic playing, since he has a nice sense of texture.

Television.  First off, it was a thrill to see Billy onstage, setting 
up his drums--we're seeing Television!  Really!  Gear: Tom's red 
hardtail strat, which a fellow audience member observed might have 
still had the price tag hanging from it (looked very new), 
miscellaneous effects (which I couldn't see), and that Matchless 
amp--not the same one from Columbus, which I know was borrowed; 
anyway, the Columbus one was burgundy-covered, and this one was 
black.  If it's his, maybe that's what he's into now.  It'd be 
interesting if the amp he borrowed in Columbus got him into these 
guys.

Fred was playing...I remember it as a Jazz bass, which surprised me. 
That into an amp I can't recall (G-K?), and a Hartke cabinet.  You'll 
find in the review that I don't mention Fred much, mainly 
because...he was hard to hear from where I was.  Bass waves don't 
fully resolve for several feet out from the stage, so I've heard, and 
I may have been too close for the waves to fully resolve.  Or maybe I 
was in a null.  Or I may have just cruelly neglected Fred in paying 
attention to Tom and Richard.  <Insert dope-slap>

Richard played mostly a sunburst Strat with a deeply disturbed finish 
and a humbucker in the bridge.  He was quite busy with the pickup 
switch, so it seemed to me.  I'm not sure what pedals he used, 
either.  (Both Richard and Tom seemed to have electronic tuners among 
their effects.)

During the plugging-in-and-tuning part, Tom was met with shouts of 
"Where's the Jazzmaster?" (wasn't me, honest) and "Tom, we love you 
no matter what!" which wasn't me either, but was heartening to hear. 
(I think of that awful story involving that acoustic tour, related 
by...was it Leo?   Man, if Tom's come to hate performing, that'd 
explain it.  But the crowd in Chicago was happy to see him.)

Having heard about "Swells" from Keith's review, I was able to enjoy 
it for what it was, a sort of ambient, dramatic overture.  The drum 
rolls and the mode Tom was playing in had some similarities to the 
"overture" part of "Seneca" from Tortoise's _Standards_, with a touch 
of "Sor Juanna" from _Warm and Cool_.

As this intro slowly died away, Tom picked out the riff of "1880 or 
So," perhaps a tentative, delicate tune to start with, it was still 
proof that this was really the band we came to see, after waiting all 
this time.  I was on Tom's side of the stage, where he was clustered 
with Fred and Billy, with Richard off on his own to the right. 
(What's up with that?)  I was back from the stage a bit--no room to 
push up front--and found that I could hear Tom's voice and guitar 
quite well (not surprising), Billy's drums just fine, and Richard 
with some difficulty.  (Not helped by the weird midrange choky 
quality to his tone in the solo here.)  Richard seemed to be playing 
his ass off, but from where I stood, it was buried in the mix.  At 
the time, it seemed that it _should_ have been the moment when the 
band took off, but there was a kind of cognitive dissonance between 
Richard's fretboard attack and the laid-back quality over on stage 
right.  Interestingly, Tom's solo was a lot more engaged and 
aggressive live than the sparse, pedal-steel-ish solo we know from 
the studio version--a good sign indeed.

"This Tune" came next, my least-favorite track from the third album. 
("Mars" would have killed the momentum, but I do like it better than 
"This Tune.")  The energy seemed to slip a bit here, but it might 
have been my lack of engagement with the song.  Tom delivered some of 
the lines (like "you touched my knee,") in a dissonant moan that 
added a likably creepy dimension.  The interplay between Richard and 
Tom got tighter, and they had a groove going toward the end.

When they slammed into "Venus" next, as Scott observed, a charge went 
through the audience.  Hearing _and seeing_ them play this was the 
realization of a dream we'd had for many years.  This was also my 
first real education in how Tom and Richard split up the 
playing--Richard handled the complex riff (his parts much more 
audible now, with a less choked tone), and took over the rhythm 
playing during the Tom's solo.  The solo itself showed great spirit, 
and was another truly thrilling moment of the evening (for me, 
anyway).  Billy's drumming was also dramatic on this one, and we got 
to see Tom bending at the knees as of legend, leaning over his 
guitar, pumping the notes out.  The band was very tight on this one, 
which says a lot for playing old tunes.

"Beauty Trip" was pleasant enough, but some of the energy seemed to 
dissipate.  Perhaps it's because the arrangements aren't as intricate 
as the older tunes or something--there's more space in them, more 
flexibility maybe, but it can create a big hole to fill.  Richard 
exhibited a fine solo, however, and the tradeoff of the main riff 
between Tom and Richard was a treat to see, which contradicts what I 
began this paragraph complaining about.  (It'd have been nice to see 
Richard play slide on this one, but such was not to be.)

Some sparse, creepy atmospherics were next, with Tom exhibiting the 
pinky-on-the-volume-knob Roy Buchanan swells that he does so well. 
It seemed like the beginning of some new tune, something like 
"Swells."  It was cool, with Tom and Richard responding to each other 
playfully, seemingly unrehearsed.  Then Billy started the drum part, 
and--it was "Little Johnny Jewel"!  Another thriller.  Tight, 
engaged, and mighty, particularly Richard, Fred, and Billy, who all 
seemed to be spurring Tom on. "And then he loses his senses..." The 
solo started strong, and Tom followed his inspiration 
outward...dissipating into those sparse volume swells again.  A much 
shorter solo than I would have expected from this usually epic tune.

"See No Evil" pumped some life back into the band, with another 
smoking solo by Richard.  Also good to see was Tom's playing during 
Richard's solos--I was vividly reminded of one of Tom's comments 
about there not being any personality stuff onstage, but that when 
Richard played, Tom's only concern was to push him as hard as he 
could.  This was quite visible.   Richard's playing all evening was 
very note-dense, sometimes verging on shredding territory, as if he 
was trying to wrench the band into life, to light a fire under 
everyone.  The same was true for "Call Mr. Lee," in which Richard's 
playing struck me as almost twisted in this setting, and put me in 
mind of Ernie Henry's first phrases in his solo on Monk's "Brilliant 
Corners"--the dissonance was beautifully jarring and noirish.   Tom's 
playing, as if in response, became again more aggressive than on the 
studio version, and the tune ended hard and wonderful.

Next came "Prove It," yet another lesson in how the old tunes were 
arranged.  Again, many of the parts I'd thought were Tom's were in 
fact Richard's.  As Philip noted, the audience sung along on the 
chorus, and Billy's glorious drum fills were right there in the 
verses (kind of made me wish they'd done "Torn Curtain").  Tom's solo 
was even better than his others so far, and I got the impression that 
things were getting fun for him.

"Rocket" and "Rhyme" were next in the set, and really did come to 
life.  "Rocket," their Sonic Youth tune, began with Richard's 
gorgeous Hendrixian cascading waves of feedback.  I'd have been happy 
to hear the whole tune played that way.  While I dug the ping-ponging 
between Tom and Richard in the trading of lines, more of that 
feedback would have pushed it over the top.  Still, a joyful noise 
was made, and phased into "Rhyme."  Tom's vocals were significantly 
improvised, and he played with the delivery a lot, getting into the 
character of (as Milo Miles put it) "a man so inarticulate with lust" 
that he was reduced to random disconnected phrases.  It was cool to 
hear him digging around and finding the poetry in the words--hey, a 
Live Event!  As it trailed on, though, there was something disturbing 
about the "blue dress" monologue--that "heaviness" or "sense of 
crisis" in the light stuff that Tom's talked about, an example of 
this tune done well.  Finally, in the middle of it, the band fell 
silent, and I thought for sure everything had fallen apart.  But 
no--there was the "scream and shout" crescendo, and the band blasted 
out the long coda.  Way more enjoyable than on record.

"Rhyme" faded into..."Marquee Moon," of course, mighty, confident, 
just as one would want (_another_ who-played-what lesson!).  Richard 
kicked out the jams on his solo, and Tom's solo had great spirit as 
well.  Finally, during the ascending figure near the end, Richard 
dropped out to change guitars and tune the replacement.  Tom took 
over both guitar parts for the atmospheric resolution, and...led Fred 
and Billy back into the ascending figure, repeatedly, with greater 
intensity each time.

My memory at this point is sketchy (anyone who's heard a recording of 
the show may be able to verify one way or another)--I recall that 
right before Richard joined back in (after what was probably just a 
couple of minutes, but seemed much longer), Tom had stretched out the 
atmospheric part again, into a supple, pure noisemaking, waving the 
guitar back and forth for the RFI hum, in a thrilling example of an 
expert at play.  When Richard joined for the last iteration of the 
figure and the ending of the tune (without the reiteration of the 
theme as on record), the noise was loud, overpowering, and 
glorious--it was as if the band had slyly pulled victory from the 
jaws of chaos.   What would have completely derailed lesser players 
(equipment screwup at the climax of the signature tune) became proof 
of their mastery.

What I want from a band is for them to show me something new, and 
Television did here, just as they did the first time  I heard them on 
record.  I'd go so far as to say that this version of "Marquee Moon" 
is the best I'd ever heard.  Philip observed that we should have had 
to pay extra for that mistake, and I have to agree with him.  At that 
point, the evening was made for me.

That the encore began with "Glory" was yet another pleasure.  It 
smoked appropriately gently, while the covers "Don't Need Your Lovin' 
Anymore" and "Psychotic Reaction" burned full on.  Chaos reared its 
head again at the beginning of the latter--Tom's call for the segue 
seemed to take Richard by surprise, or something, and they ended up a 
fraction of a beat out of sync on the riff.  This seemed to amuse 
Tom.  They synched back up, and played all the harder for it, Tom 
memorably attacking his Strat with wire cutters for a chaotic slide 
in his solo.  And then they were gone.

They'd rocked, played "out," let the tunes breathe, showed us 
something new, and struggled against chaos.  A truly great, dramatic 
evening.  Well done, and best wishes for Seattle.

--
Maurice Rickard
http://mauricerickard.com/
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