Baltimore – Somewhere hidden in my brain, there must be a nerve with slots for scrabble blocks. And I further imagine that, when nano-scopic wooden blocks of letters matching the name of this band are assembled, this nerve is aggravated, causing a deathly impulse which instantly twists my tongue and locks up my jaw but maintains saliva function, thus transforming me into a slobbering half-wit. It’s like some form of pressure point martial art, and as Derek and Paul witnessed, it works every time. Afterward, I began to refer to them as “the band that I can’t pronounce”, and it was often referred to, because we frequently had to coordinate so that we can be in each others’ presence during BBQ. At least I wouldn’t look any different even if I tried to say it…
The-band-that-I-cant-pronounce played in Lamberts BBQ this night, another venue that PM have never been to. Unlike the rest of 6th street, Lamberts is set into the busy street corner opposite to the gigantic “Dubya” (W) club (it’s one whole city block), on the clearly higher-class but similarly drunk west side of Congress. On the ground floor, Lamberts is a higher brow BBQ and upstairs, a neat bar and a cozy stage that fits around 75 people at most comfortably. For Torontonians, this place can be readily imagined if you put a stage in Fred’s Not Here, or Dimmi. Secret Cities’ first album was a joy to listen to, for me. Although styles of song-writing may persist, very few bands that I know maintain themes across the songs on an album. Hidden (or not… often it’s very clearly highlighted in guitar) in layers of reverb, you can pick out the pop, pink city and graffiti melodies. I know many people may consider this a ploy or laziness. But consider: this repetitious visits upon themes is a part of classical music. Secret Cities may not have developed them in different scales/speed/etc, but it’s nonetheless cool to hear. There were talks of Brian Wilson and meditation last year, when the album came out (see this, for example). But to be honest, looking backward to Brian Wilson’s mental health is less interesting to me than to look forward to my own.
Secret Cities is from Fargo ND, consists of MJ Parker, Alex Abnos and Charlie Gokey. As I mentioned, Lamberts is not a large space. They played to a crowd of roughly 50, a number that I expect will grow as they become better known. Talking to the band after, Alex readily admitted that the size of the band is elastic: apparently he didn’t count on the album being unplayable by one drummer, when he recorded. And good thing, too, since it is a strong part of their music (as well as… tambourine). Similarly, a bass stepped in for most parts (who also suggested that I do not visit Kansas City unless I wanted to photograph another city in decline when I told him I live in Baltimore). Although they were solid, I don’t believe their music translated to the live stage as well as it did on polycarbonate. The encompassing, drown out feeling was hard to recreate, and I blame the medium more than the band. Starting with Pink city (2nd song) and ending with Boyfriends (which is the summary of many melodies used in the album making it a little strange…) was smart and… perhaps too cute? I’ll leave that until I have a better listen at the 2nd album. I can, however, recommend their first, Pink Graffiti.
