Live Review: The Broken West & Centro-Matic

The Broken West
Centro-Matic
The Picador, Iowa City
9/11/08

Damn you, Picador! With your cool fall rock schedule, late starts and weeknight gigs. I’m married! With kids! I have to be at work at 7:30am! Yes, the idea of staying out late only to get up four hours later to get ready for work is a daunting task. I would only reserve this for the best of shows and since you decided to book a pair of recent favorites on the same bill, well hello lethargy! I also noticed a few other shows I wouldn’t mind checking out (Neil Hamburger! William Elliot Whitmore!) before I remembered that I was way old and unable to put my body through the regiments of frequent clubbing. That’s why I’m counting on you, Dear Picador, to book a few early shows so that I can get home at a reasonable hour….midnight is fine…so that I can go to work and be presentable without those noticeable bags under my eyes.
As it stood, I arrived home around 1:30 thanks to missing the headliners, Whoopee, choosing to see my original motivation: The Broken West and Centro-Matic. I’d wanted to see C.M. for a few years now…ever since being turned on to them with All The Falsest Hearts Can Try thanks to a nice write-up in an Insound newsletter.
Speaking of: Insound used to send out monthly newsletters with great reviews that were typically spot on. They got a lot of money from me because of this, but then the newsletters stopped. I’m not sure if they still do these, but since I no longer receive them, I don’t spend nearly as much money with Insound as I used to. Bad for Insound. Good for my wife.
I got there as the opening band was finishing up. That gave me enough time to sit at the bar and enjoy a beer before making my way towards the front. Robe was tending as usual and after a brief Q&A of “What’s (insert old Gabe’s soundman name here) doing these days?” a somewhat familiar presence sat next to me. Admiring another Picador worker’s Neil Diamond wallet was none other than William Elliot Whitmore. He offered up a few verses of famous Diamond tunage before pondering aloud if Diamond’s Rick Rubin produced album from a few years ago was any good.
I advised that the cd was loaded with anti-piracy bullshit.
Sorry, Neil.
Someone else I vaguely recognized mentioned that the same folks that created Heavy Metal Parking Lot made another movie of similar plot. The same parking lot, the same time of year, and practically the same results. The subject matter for the newer film was Neil Diamond and the similarities between his fans and the one focused on the original film (Judas Priest) was frighteningly close.
We both agreed that this would be a film worth checking out.
A drunk patron then said something to Robe that was stupid enough to get him kicked out. Robe let him stay, which may have been a bad thing as I saw him again during Broken West’s set right at the front, harassing people for no reason. I was in no mood to have a good evening spoiled by a big drunk retard, but no confrontation was necessary as the dude went back for a refill and was not seen again.
The Broken West I had seen before…same venue two years ago…when they opened for some local band while touring to support I Can’t Go On…I’ll Go On. The band was offered a truncated set then, which was odd since they were on such an established indie, but it didn’t matter much as there were probably only a dozen or so patrons that night. Bigger crowd on this evening, but still small enough to ponder “Iowa City! What the fuck?!”
I was curious to see how the new atmospherics of their latest Now Or Heaven would translate to stage. Thanks to a touring keyboardist and a new drummer, the results were fairly close to the album. The band seemed more keyed on the newer material and occasionally compliant with the older tunes. “Brass Ring,” the final got a fairly wicked rework with some chaotic aggression before reigning back in for a tender reprise.
Awesome
By the way, that "awesome" photo above is one of three pictures I got the entire night as the battery in my camera died seconds after capturing the back of The Broken West's bass player Brian Whelan's head, a blurry photo of Ross Flournoy and a darken shot of the stage thanks to not having enough juice to power the fucking flash.
Because of the four band bill, B.W. played another truncated set, but since the next band was Centro-Matic, there wasn’t a lot of whining on my part.
CM’s Will Johnson is one of those slight, unimposing dudes that you wish would shave, buff up, and become the famous star that he should be. It’s one thing to be prolific like Johnson is, but it’s another to be prolific with a high degree of awesome tunes. Johnson provides that…in not one, but two bands…and he’s still criminally overlooked even in these days of spontaneous communication.
This was the first time I’d seen Centro-Matic, so contemplate my virginity when I declare that their set bordered on transcendent. It’s not like they delivered anything precise or groundbreaking; they were just precisely the best band in the world at that particular moment.
The band started out with general chord progressions, seeming to arrive from the sound check and ceasing the moment it turned into a potential song. The band caught themselves and began their proper set, which seemed to be constantly spontaneous with the exception of the first few songs. I noticed Johnson yelling song titles over the din of the previous song, essentially forgoing the need to have any of the material on a sheet of paper. Pence is an underrated drummer….this seems to be a common thing in Centro-Matic…but the jewel of the band is Scott Danborn. Alternating between keyboards and bass, he provides the band with their melodic high-end vocals, the ones that rub the gravel of Will Johnson’s vocals into smooth surfaces and things of beauty.
One of the things that made this night so special for me was how they played…without asking…three Centro-Matic songs I wanted to hear (“Call The Legion In Tonight,” “Calling Thermatico” and “The Mighty Midshipman”). Throughout the set, Johnson jumped in place in apparent jubilation and frequently lifted his leg in what only could be described as trying to take that giant leap forward. He looked so caught in the moment that it is possible he had no idea that he was even doing this, particularly when his foot nearly struck bassist Mark Hedman who was stalking the stage at the same time.
Like a good music supporter in these days of free downloading, I bought both band’s latest and didn’t feel the urge to round up everyone to get an autograph. I did snag the B.W.’s setlist which makes me the proud owner of two of them now. I chatted briefly with guitarist Dan Iead and bassist Brian Whelan before I felt stupid a decided to leave. Brian laughed when I suggested that the new album needed to be different like it was because you can’t keep doing power pop over and over again. He said he was laughing because he agreed, but I still felt that I should just stop talking and leave.
I caught Ross Flournoy by himself outside as I was leaving and thanked him for a recent interview. At the risk of sounding gay, Flournoy is a sweetheart. Totally approachable and seemingly well read, Ross confessed that it was licensing deals that enabled the band to survive and tour after the debut, that they would never do a tour schedule as hectic as they did last time and that, thanks to high gas prices and a sluggish economy, the band would be taking a loss when this tour is said and done.
Understanding that times are tight for everyone, particularly touring indie bands like Centro-Matic and The Broken West, makes a few hours of less sleep than normal a little more tolerable. But when they also manage to exceed your expectations in the process, it more than makes up for any amount of shuteye.
Night Night…