Apr. 18th, 2002

hey newbie

Apr. 18th, 2002 02:02 pm
I was hanging out with Liza in the front room of Manray, waiting out the dead time between Haujobb's and VNV's concert sets, watching club kids dance while Punketta threw some more beat-heavy industrial into the mix.

"Is it me or is it really young tonight?" she asked
"I was kind of wondering about that myself. I wonder how many of these kids actually cared to see Haujobb, or if they're only here for VNV Nation."

then a kid turned to us and said, "Hey, did Haujobb play already?"
"yeah. they just finished up."
"aw damn." He looked distressed, but not too badly, and he turned to his friends who told him that at least they'd still see VNV, and Liza and I looked at each other and shook our heads.

VNV was the band du jour (or rather the band des trois dernieres annees) riding a three year crest powered by catchy, energetic, and formulaic industrial pop. Now, they were touring with Haujobb opening. Poor Haujobb, once the finest electro-industrial act in the world, laid low by a couple of dismal albums and now lurking in the shadows of second-tier favor, ignored by a generation of 20 year olds raised on "Joy" and "Standing". Though most of us curmudgeons knew the score, and we knew that the best part of the night had already pretty much passed. Haujobb's set was just that good.

In an age of laptop musicians, and soulless technicians on stage, there's something to be said for an artist who made a career in electronic dance music, but still chooses to bring real instruments to his live shows. There's an energy that a real drummer brings that a DAT cannot match, no matter how loud it is. There's a world of difference between a performer who can actually improvise and one who just plays a few sound files in sequence. There's an appeal to actually watching an artist drop the pose of disaffected, jaded existentialist and actually have fun. Daniel Myer from Haujobb gave us all of that, and it was regrettable to watch him leave if only because it would make the rest of the night anticlimactic

To be fair, VNV turned out a polished set. The singer, Ronan, knew how to work a crowd; though he should be reminded that goth kids don't sing along to the chorus no matter how many times you yell at them "Come on! You know the words! Let's go!" We're just too cool for such things, or at least we like to think we are. It's also advisable to ask your drummer to at least pretend that he's drumming, and not spend half the show raising his hands in the air in mock triumph, while the DAT plays all the percussion in the background. Either that or ditch the illusion all together and ask the drummer to breakdance. Now that might've been worth $20.

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