Asobi Seksu + Tyvek - Middle East Upstairs (Cambridge, MA; Mar. 30, 2009)

Playing dilapidated instruments fitting of their ailing hometown of Detroit, the trio representing Tyvek treated The Middle East Upstairs to raw punk-rock stylings reminiscent of the genre’s early days. Maybe it’s that I’m not a huge fan of the early days. Maybe it’s that Tyvek normally operates with more than three members. But for whatever reason, the short, bare-boned, and notably loud and distorted ditties didn’t do much for me, aside from advancing my tinnitus symptoms.

To Tyvek’s credit, there was no lack of energy. In perhaps repudiation of percussion norms, their drummer chose to stand while playing, sacrificing precision for effect. Sporting duds and glasses akin to Napoleon Dynamite, Tyvek’s lead singer belted mostly unintelligible vocals over driving bass and drums. He also delivered sparse but innovative electric licks, which provided a necessary spark at many moments. Toward the end of the set, he smirkingly announced over amps bleeding distortion that they were going to “slow it down.” The slow down presented full, melodic Strokes-esque melodies from the guitars, complemented nicely by steady drum beats.

I can say that this was the first time I witnessed the manner of ragged, unforgiving, in-your-face punk rock that has opened the door for countless musicians since its birth decades ago. For that, I give Tyvek props.

As the roadies prepared for Asobi Seksu, there was a palpable and immediate shift in production value. Racks of pedals and switches lined the stage, and a synthesizer/xylophone combo was erected for lead singer Yuki Chikudate. Asobi Seksu kicked off their set (and most of their songs) by filling the room with huge atmospheric layers of synth, which jived well with the blue luminescence of Christmas lights strewn over amps. Chikudate’s presence was larger than her stature suggested, as her pretty soprano vocals soared over the din of bassy instrumentation. Her higher notes were especially affective during times when the lower register of her synthesizer rumbled the floor.

It occurred to me about halfway through the set that the band sounded like The Cranberries reincarnated in an alternative hard rocking/shoegazing realm. Songs frequently descended into muddled distortion only to emerge moments later as head nodding jams, led by the precise and impressive drumming of Larry Gorman. After transitioning into one trance-like number, an animated James Hanna, rocking a little too hard, toppled the xylophone from its perch with the neck of his guitar. This fazed no one.

Asobi Seksu’s penultimate song, “Pink Cloud Tracing Paper” from 2006 release Citrus, was an ambient jam-out whose verses and choruses organically blended into each other. It showcased the group’s ability to create music that moves forward without necessarily adhering to accepted songwriting techniques. They finished their set with “Red Sea,” which experimented with rhythms and intricate beats and came to an incredible earthquake of a thumping and resounding head. At the end of the song, with strobe lights flashing, Chikudate stepped behind the drums and delivered a few final percussive bars before whipping the drumsticks into the audience and stalking off after her bandmates as waves of massive sound pounded from the now-empty empty stage.

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