Dirty Projectors + No Kids - Museum of Fine Arts (Boston, MA; Mar. 30, 2008)

There have been a number of reviews slagging off the Museum of Fine Arts recently and it’s not all that hard to see why. There are so many ways in which it’s not what we’ve come to expect from a rock concert venue. From the recessed lighting, to the properly functioning ventilation system, to the creepy cherubs on the wall, it tends to remind me of my middle school auditorium. Most of all, there seems to be an understood agreement that no one is supposed to make any noise, even between songs. When someone did actually yell something between Dirty Projectors songs at some point on Sunday, Dave Longstreth described the audience as “having a ‘tude” for having broken our silence. “An awesome ‘tude,” he added, acknowledging that he welcomed the audience participation and general interaction that had been sorely lacking. But for all its faults, I think I’ll take my place as a dissenter and say that I think the MFA is a great venue. It’s true that I wouldn’t want to see every show there, but occasionally I can really appreciate having a seat and being able to actually hear all the instruments in the mix. After seeing the Dirty Projectors perform at the MFA before (opening for Grizzly Bear), and now once again as headliners, I’m not sure I’d care to see them anywhere else in Boston.

When Nick Krgovich first walked on stage at the beginning of the No Kids’ set, he uttered one of the most awkward hellos I think I’ve ever heard. In his button-up cardigan and thick glasses, I felt as if I was about to watch my high school math teacher embarrass himself in front of all his students. When he went on to explain that it was the first show of their first tour as No Kids and “a very formal place for a first show” at that, it all made a little more sense, but I still had the impression that he might start blushing and run off stage at any moment.

The awkwardness was still evident between songs for the length of the set, but as soon as the band touched their instruments, Nick became what I can only describe as David Byrne meets Jamie Lidell. His nervous, herky-jerky style was complemented by his startlingly expressive voice, full of soul and versatility much like we’ve come to expect from Dave Longstreth. And much like the Dirty Projectors, who Nick described as “kind of an awesome band . . . like maybe the best one,” the No Kids’ sound tends to escape easy classification. Fleshed out with the use of only keyboards and drums, it ranged from bouncy to melodramatic, and felt somehow orchestral and minimal all at once. Julia Chirka at times appeared slightly overwhelmed as her keyboard assumed the various roles of a fuller band, with Nick enjoying his running joke of announcing “Julia on the double bass” or “Julia on the brass.” But for a band at the beginning of their first tour, there was so much to love that all the little idiosyncrasies just made the whole experience that much better.

I don’t think anyone expected the Dirty Projector’s “re-imagining” of the Black Flag classic Damaged to sound like a hardcore punk album, but in some ways it seems silly to even reference the originals at all. Without recognizing some of the lyrics, I think I would have been hard pressed to identify any of the songs’ purported inspirations. But it’s all just part of what makes Rise Above such a bewildering and fascinating listen, and it’s certainly rather entertaining to hear Dave Longstreth sing about flipping off the cops and getting hit with a billy club or Angel Deradoorian and Amber Coffman professing their “need for action” in perfect harmony.

At Sunday’s show, though, I sensed an effort on the part of the Projectors to tighten up their sound a bit. Given the straightforward nature of the originals, it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but the material on Rise Above was a significant-enough departure from Damaged that I couldn’t help but expect the live versions to leave a little more room for Longstreth to stretch out with his vocals and for more of the general unpredictability of previous shows. Far from a criticism though, The Dirty Projectors in streamlined form are still an absolutely captivating band. And at times, such as on “Thirsty and Miserable” toward the end of their regrettably short set, every facet of their singular sound managed to come together; the sweet harmonies, the malleable lead vocals, the noodly guitar work, the propulsive attack. It’s a sound you could never hope to describe and it’s one that even the Dirty Projectors don’t manage to best embody every time out. Longstreth’s sense of composition has no direct precedent. Sometimes it falls off the edge, but occasionally it doesn’t stray far enough. But there is no substitute for hearing a Dirty Projector’s record or attending a show.

Even in the sterile environment of the MFA, I had the impression on Sunday that music was moving forward, even as it “re-imagined” the past. It’s a strange idea that a band would try to sound like its influences. If the groups you admire had tried to mimic their influences, you would never be listening to them today. The only thing you can hope to take away from a unique band is its striving to be unique. The Dirty Projectors figured that out a long time ago, and this latest album and tour are just their most recent remarkable examples.

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