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SHOW REVIEW: Fucked Up, Wavves, Black Girls

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Fucked Up, Wavves, Black Girls
Monday, September 26 at The Jefferson Theater (Charlottesville)

It’s easy to forget how close Charlottesville is to Richmond. My sights were always directed towards DC or Norfolk when it came to traveling for shows. This was my first experience venturing to the home of UVA to catch a show worthy of the cities that surround it. With the promise of seeing local champions Black Girls open for the co-headlining tour of Waaves and Fucked Up, it was the perfect opportunity.

Before I get into the gritty details of the night, I should mention that Charlottesville has something going for it. The Jefferson Theater is a great spot with a unique aesthetic and a penchant for inviting Richmond artists to join their bills. I hope this trend continues, and I look forward to seeing more shows there in the coming months. I’m thinking about seeing St. Vincent there in October already.

As I arrived to the theater, Black Girls were finishing up their set. I caught the final touches of “Broadway,” and one number that I didn’t recognize. What hasn’t been said about Black Girls? They have earned a tremendous level of devotion from their hometown. as well as encouraging the naysaying of your everyday detractor. They have somehow accomplished the impossible in Richmond--they play out more than any band I can think of, yet still bring out legions of fans and musical peers. There seems to be no stopping them, and their addition to this bill was a nice gesture. Any worries about how they would fit on a bill like this were immediately quashed, as a loud burst of applause greeted the band as they finished their set. A friend that I rode with to the show mentioned to me that she had never heard Black Girls before. The song and a half we caught acted as her introduction. She was enamored by the conviction of Drew Gillihan’s voice against the backdrop of the group’s self-declared "snuff rock" jams. This is the true beauty of the band--despite everything they have already accomplished in their short lifespan, they still attract new interest in the most abrupt and sudden ways. Black Girls represented Richmond wonderfully, and I look forward to their presence on out of town shows in Central Virginia and beyond.

When it comes to bands I am unfamiliar with, I've formed a habit of sorts. I will give the band a few listens before the show, and although I might enjoy it slightly, I try to not let this cloud my judgment upon seeing the group live. Then, when the day of the show arrives. I end up finding the band in question’s set to be decent, but nothing too remarkable. It's on the following day that the band’s songs start to appear in my subconscious, leading me to return to their songs to acquire further perspective. The band wins me over, and I regret not fully acknowledging how great their set was at the time. This was the case with Wavves. The initial selection of songs seemed to blend together until they hit “In The Sand.” This tune revolves around Wavves mastermind Nathan Williams going back and forth between two chords. His voice resonates across the theater. At that point in the set, I was starting to get the appeal of Wavves.

As they grew closer to their finale, the songs acquired more of an identity separate from one another. Everything from “Green Eyes” to “No Hope Kids” sounded fantastic. A unique quality of theirs revealed itself in a conversation I had following the set. A friend of mine pointed out a context that helped me appreciate Wavves even more. The new crop of groups that Wavves and Best Coast are a part of exist as this generation’s jaded youth. Their subject matter tends to relate to pessimism, ex-lovers, and just hanging out, while resenting your surroundings. This is a direct reaction to the times. Easy comparisons can be made to the reaction most audiences had to then-relatively unknown Green Day in 1994 with the release of their seminal record Dookie. Who’s to say if Wavves will have the same cultural impact that Green Day did in today’s musical society, but their prolific unveiling of new releases should certainly keep this ADD generation intrigued enough to keep Wavves from falling into obscurity. Having come to terms with how I feel about the group, I can only hope that Williams and company keep at it. It seems as if they have a promising future ahead.

Fucked Up deserves every bit of praise they have received since their 2008 album The Chemistry of Common Life. They hit every mark with enough ambition and innovation to keep the attention of people you wouldn’t typically peg as fans. They also have a cult of fans that revel in obtaining every single release Fucked Up has ever put out, which is quite the task if you consider how many vinyl releases they have under their belt since their inception in 2001. This year marked the release of their rock opera David Comes to Life. I wasn’t certain if Fucked Up planned on playing the opera start to finish on this tour, but I am glad that they opted out of this approach. Although the succinct nature of the record is phenomenal, the material is strong enough to be incorporated into a varied set.

Fucked Up stormed onto the stage and opened with “Queen of Hearts.” This song really made the audience come to life (no pun intended). Everyone screamed along as Damien “Pink Eyes” Abraham found a choir pressed against the stage, hanging on every word. As the microphone found its way to the front of the stage, the band was unbelievably tight. I was most impressed by the vocal dynamics of guitarist Ben Cook (formerly of No Warning). He accompanied bassist Sandy Miranda on all of the female vocal parts found on David Comes to Life, while also successfully delivering on the gang vocal parts found on The Chemistry of Common Life. Such things usually go unnoticed, but given the nature of Fucked Up’s last record, I was curious as to how they would pull off the multiple vocal parts. I was left very impressed.

The set furiously went by and Abraham shed more and more of his clothes until it was he, a microphone and a pair of boxer shorts. It wasn't long before he ended up on the floor with the audience in the middle of the pit. This only raised the intensity of the crowd even further, to the point of kids climbing onto Abraham’s shoulders and being spun around ridiculously. As the crowd seemed to get a bit rowdier, Abraham took a moment to address the potential for violence. As he initially spoke about it, a few audience members exclaimed that they were in fact fucked up and couldn’t help themselves. Abraham laughed along, and put it quite simply. It doesn’t matter how fucked up you are, it should never be an excuse to prevent one from respecting the space of another person. Everyone was there to have a good time, and he wanted to make sure that everyone in attendance was able to. I’ve seen band members find themselves in positions like this regularly, and I felt that Abraham dealt with it in the best possible way. It probably didn’t hurt that his trip into the audience only made him seem more on their level. He further expressed that these songs may be Fucked Up songs, but they were just as much the audience’s songs as well. These were our anthems and we were all responsible for making this a night we could walk away with fond memories of.

In light of this being a co-headlining tour with Wavves, Fucked Up closed their set earlier than I would have liked. But in all honesty, this is such a minor complaint. No band should ever overstay their welcome, and Fucked Up left me craving the next time I would get to see them live.

This ended up being one of the more surprising and memorable shows of 2011. I became a fan of Wavves, and discovering how much I loved Fucked Up all along. It was exciting to see Richmond represented on the bill via Black Girls. On the ride back to Richmond, we were already telling stories from what had happened mere moments before. It was the kind of night where none of us wanted to let any of the moments shared get away.


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