I think I kind of have a music crush on Dan Boeckner. Between Handsome Furs and Wolf Parade, I’ve caught the dude blowing my mind (and eardrums) probably around 7 or 8 times by now. When I heard Wolf Parade would be back in Chicago after their brief, but enjoyable performance at Pitchfork, I knew I had to check it out—even if that meant going against everything I stand for in music venues and returning to the dreaded House of Blues. Now to be fair, I had only frequented HOB once a few years back; ironically enough, to catch Wolf Parade—but the bad taste that was left in my mouth from the obnoxious security personnel and staff just wouldn’t fade. (Seriously, who the hell doesn’t let someone with a press pass in with a PEN?! I mean, I know I’m super cool and Wolf Parade would probably throw me on their guest list once they got to know me on a friend to friend basis, but . . . seriously.)
While the security personnel allowed my blue point bic hassle free this time around, I was slapped with a handful of even more painful fun killers--$6 cans of beer (sober night), a crowd of obnoxious underage fleece sporting nerds and bros (almost had a $6 high life spill on my kicks when some 17 year old flew down the stairs at my feet; not to be topped off by the drunk jerkstore on my right who “loves snorting lines of coke off his iPad”), and the most god awful opening band in all of history. I could almost dedicate this entire review to how terrible a pair-up whatever nonsense it was that opened up for WP sounded (and I’m not talking about the cutesy Japanese band, either), but I think my six-word scribbled descriptor of “cringe-worthy nasal nuisance nineties reject rock” did a fair enough job of summing them up. And of course, they had the longest sound check of all time—so by the time Boeckner, Krug and crew eventually took the stage around 10:15, it was safe to say I was on my last nerve’s end.
It only took the first key chords of “Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts” to quickly turn me around, however. Instantly clicking with an old personal fave from Apologies to Queen Mary was just the anecdote to my unease, and I realized that maybe the next 75 minutes would prove to be worth the wait after all—plus I got the spiteful amusement of watching the staff finally catch on to some underage drinkers and throw their asses out. While banter was somewhat consistent between songs, it remained at a fair minimum—with Krug throwing in self-deprecating retorts to Dan’s annoying female “I LOVE YOU DAN! WOO’S!” along the lines of, “Well can you say Spencer, you fat fucker? I mean, I am getting a bit older, things are changing.” Additional awkward quips of watching themselves on the HD TV—“infinity mirrors” and commentary on the overwhelming odor of popcorn VS the typical ‘weed smoke smells’ followed; proving maybe Krug should have either stuck to sucking his bottle of Jameson or belting out his fantastically wavy, garbled wails.
Awkward banter aside, Wolf Parade succeeded in their rocker mission of the evening—coming across as cool and crisp in their overall instrumentation as one could hope for with their guitar, keys and percussion dead on the mark. While the majority of the songs represented stemmed from their most recent release, Expo 86, there were a handful of oldies in the mix too, with At Mount Zoomar’s “Soldier Grin,” “Fine Young Cannibals,” the 10-minute rendition of “Kissing the Beehive,” and Apologies’ “I’ll Believe in Anything, the encore closer “You are a Runner And I am My Father’s Son,” and my personal highlight of the night, an electrified, dancey rendition to “This Heart’s On Fire.”
By the end of the night, I was a pretty sleepy, yet content gal—even despite the high influx of drunken bros polluting the crowd. While I would have admittedly liked to have heard more Apologies’ numbers, I felt satisfied with the equal representation of WP’s catalogue and look forward with what’s to come in the future. But here’s to hoping dudes will wise up and rock The Vic or Metro next time around.
Side Note Non Review Addendum/RANTS
- Dudes, it is not smooth, cool or ever a good idea to interrupt someone who is obviously in deep thought taking notes - ESPECIALLY if said person is female and you are trying to get in her panties with lame slurs like, 'arrrrrgh yew rigghtin' a revuue?' 'that's shlooo aweshum,' 'what bhlowg? i liv in shikawgo so i probaablee reed it.' gross bros, piss off. if i wanted you to read my shit or talk to you, i wouldn't give you my meanest bitch face with my arms crossed. i also wouldn't say 'a blog' when you asked where i wrote. I HATE DRUNK BROS.
- To the guys to my right who wouldn't quit saying 'NOW THAT WAS A JAM!!!' you are very fortunate i did not reach over the railling and bash your respective craniums into the stair banister. seriously.
- That new song in the setlist i didn't really mention above in the review, I had never heard it, i just know they kept singing, 'search for discovery' and something about a 'precious stone.' this song ruled. i want to hear it again. that is all.
- Never again will I go to a show 100% sober.
- While I love Wolf Parade, they need to shorten up some of their songs. Strictly personal opinion, but I was getting bored with some of the extended outro jam seshes. (NOW THAT WAS A JAM!!!)
Wolf Parade Set List – 11/23/10 – House of Blues, Chicago
1. Dear Sons and Daughters of Hungry Ghosts
2. Soldier’s Grin
3. What did my Lover Say? (It Always had to go this Way)
4. Ghost Pressure
5. Cloud Shadow On the Mountain
6. Fine Young Cannibals
7. New song
8. Palm Road
9. I’ll Believe in Anything
10. This Heart’s On Fire
11. Kissing the Beehive
12. Yulia – encore 1
13. You Are a Runner And I am My Father’s Son—encore 2
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