The Sound of 400 Hipsters Clapping. . .
Clap Your Hands Say Yeah!
South Street Seaport, 8-10-05
Saw Clap Your Hands last night. They were playing as part of some outdoor music fest, and were opening for some Gypsy-fusion band (when did Gypsy-fusion become the new Electoclash, by the way?) called DeVotchKa. Flavorpill can tell you all of this.
What it can't tell you is that due to its prompt 7:30 start time and the unnerving mallishness of the South Street Seaport, the show was as glutted with blue-shirted i banker types as with sweaty hipsters in clothes they pretend not to have bought at Urban Outfitters. Even stranger was that the blue shirts seemed to be enjoying themselves more, possibly because they were just coming off their third post-work coctail as the show started. In any event, watching several of them who were clogging the stairway to the Pizzeria Uno that overlooked the stage thrash around and scream the ENTIRE show was virtually as entertaining as the show itself. Unless you were actually trying to get in or out of said Pizzeria Uno, in which case I'm sure it was horribly annoying. Or if you don't like screaming pudgy men, which I developed an affinity for while at a state university.
The band themselves were pretty great. I was a lot more familiar with their buzz than their music, but was pleasantly surprised. The singer sounds like some bastard child of Behar, Bowie, and Byrne. "Daniel Byrne Bowiehar?" "David Behrne?" I'm not sure on the nomenclature. But, I enjoyed it, is the point.
South Street Seaport, 8-10-05
Saw Clap Your Hands last night. They were playing as part of some outdoor music fest, and were opening for some Gypsy-fusion band (when did Gypsy-fusion become the new Electoclash, by the way?) called DeVotchKa. Flavorpill can tell you all of this.
What it can't tell you is that due to its prompt 7:30 start time and the unnerving mallishness of the South Street Seaport, the show was as glutted with blue-shirted i banker types as with sweaty hipsters in clothes they pretend not to have bought at Urban Outfitters. Even stranger was that the blue shirts seemed to be enjoying themselves more, possibly because they were just coming off their third post-work coctail as the show started. In any event, watching several of them who were clogging the stairway to the Pizzeria Uno that overlooked the stage thrash around and scream the ENTIRE show was virtually as entertaining as the show itself. Unless you were actually trying to get in or out of said Pizzeria Uno, in which case I'm sure it was horribly annoying. Or if you don't like screaming pudgy men, which I developed an affinity for while at a state university.
The band themselves were pretty great. I was a lot more familiar with their buzz than their music, but was pleasantly surprised. The singer sounds like some bastard child of Behar, Bowie, and Byrne. "Daniel Byrne Bowiehar?" "David Behrne?" I'm not sure on the nomenclature. But, I enjoyed it, is the point.
posted by Chris Chafin at 9:05 AM
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