The New Pornographers + Okkervil River - 9:30 Club (Washington, DC; Apr. 15, 2008)

First, let’s talk about that name. Like most things Newly Pornographic, choosing a name fell to lead singer Carl “A.C.” Newman, who claims he didn’t know he was borrowing from the title of a book by televangelist Jimmy Swaggart: “Music: The New Pornography.” Hmm. As a recent interview with Washington’s commuter daily “Express” makes clear, “anyone familiar with Carl ‘A.C.’ Newman’s work knows he’s got no place being so humble.” Clever as the name might sound, be warned that it may lead to awkward conversations, which go something like:

“Hey Mom? I’m going to see this band tonight, okay? I might be home late so, whatever. I’ll have my cell.”

“What’s the band called?”

“Who cares? It’s just a band.”

“Jane, what’s it called?”

“TheNewPunographers.”

“The new what? I can’t hear you.”

“The New Pornographers! Okay? What!? What? What’s the big deal?”

“You’d better ask your father.”

Kick-ass band name aside, Newman is also credited with writing all but three tracks on the Juno-award-winning Pornographers’ latest album, Challengers (think Canadian Grammy, not Ellen Page). He has a solo album in the works. He finds inspiration in Borges. And on Tuesday night the singer-songwriter supplied front-and-center vocals for half the band’s 20-song set. Indeed, it seems Newman has become chief of this decade-old tribe whose brilliance tends to leak musicians like a British Columbian wigwam in April. Alumnus Dan Bejar, for instance, will appear across town at the Black Cat next week, playing not as a Pornographer but for fellow Canadian native The Destroyers. ("Tell him I’m going to kick him in the nuts,” says one Pornographer, mustering a grin.)

With the Pornographers’ current tour, Newman has some convincing to do: power-pop fans fell hard for earlier albums like Mass Romantic, yet Challengers offers a mellower, shifting sound that’s getting mixed treatment from critics. “People are really excited about it around here,” raves “Express.” Then there’s this sting from Pitchfork Media’s Rob Mitchum: “Perhaps it’s just impossible for a supergroup—sorry, band made up of people in other notable bands—to properly mature, but Challengers is the first to suggest that the spark of creative collaboration may be gone from The New Pornographers.” Ouch.

The weight of expectations seems to weigh heavily during the opening of the band’s second 9:30 Club appearance this week. (We should pause here to note that Austin trio Okkervil River took the 9:30 stage beforehand, playing through the witching hour of 8:00. These guys really come from Meriden, New Hampshire, though they’ve caught some lightening by heading for the Lone Star State and SXSW after college. They sound just fine: sort of a carefree, souped-up version of Nickel Creek. But with star power like the Pornographers due out any minute, even the hopping mandolin of Okkervil’s Zack Thomas couldn’t move the house much beyond polite applause.)

Back to the weight of expectations, which shoves the Pornographers under the klieg lights and behind their instruments without so much as a “hey-yo.” (More on that later.) Nervousness reeks from stage right’s Neko Case like a bad perfume. Blaine Thurier, at the synthesizer, knows something is wrong. With a nod from Newman, seven Pornographers kick into their first number. Then, feedback. Case jabs a finger at her monitor and casts glances toward the sound crew. Her motions spawn a shrill whine that amplifies so quickly Case must tear an earpiece free of her head. Things are not going well, and at this juncture a seasoned fan might expect a seasoned band to make light of the entrance. Instead, Newman glares at drummer Kurt Dahle, and offers a shrug.

On goes the show, and not until the set list grants “All The Old Showstoppers,” at number three, does the experience begin to pay off for the sold-out crowd. Cheers go up at the opening notes of the familiar Challengers track. Case breaks out her tambourine. Newman charges his mic with adrenaline, cheekbones pinched.

Aesthetically and acoustically, Neko Case has come to shoulder almost as much of the Pornographers’ gravity as Newman. She croons from atop a silver barstool and powers through hits by bouncing the tambourine off her chest. Her black All Stars sometimes lift toward the horizon like a ballerina, hovering over the sea of faces. Her gaze wanders skyward. And she projects just enough bemusement in attempting Newman’s lyrics. His arrangements have the redhead singing lead half the night, then falling back into refrains certain to delight Philip Glass ("the bells ring / no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no"). “She has the most amazing voice,” says 27-year-old Allie Casey, a District resident vying for a drink and a spot along the front row. “I love Neko Case, I’m obsessed with her.”

At last, during a break, the Pornographers open up to a badly-behaving crowd ("reading is sexy,” reads one t-shirt). Case: “You know, making the five dollar bill bigger won’t make it worth more.” Laughter. Newman to Case: “Stick to your guns!” Case: “Let’s rock about it.” An awkward beat. Case: “That’s about the most stupid thing I’ve ever said.” Minutes later, a voice from the crowd: “She’s so hot!” This is in reference Newman’s niece, Kathryn Calder, who alternates between keyboard and accordion. Newman throws her a grin: “I’ll always think of her as 16.” Crowd: “That makes it better!” Calder blushes, instantly. Crowd: “Hey-yo!” Case, annoyed: “You just became the biggest douche bag. You are going to get some ladies tonight, sir.” Newman: “Never has it been appropriate to say ‘hey-yo.’”

There is whispering on stage as the Pornographers consider a final encore, but Newman and Case ignore pleas for “Myriad Harbour,” penned by Bejar. Instead, they roll back the clock to 2003 and “Letter From an Occupant.” Quintessential power pop. While the band’s nerves have certainly evaporated, one leaves the show a little mystified, a little underwhelmed. “I just don’t get them,” one sound producer told this writer the other day. “I just don’t.”

“That’s just who they are,” insists fan Valerie Paschall, who has been tracking the Pornographers for most of this decade. She says their live sound has improved. That one show, down in South Carolina, a few years back? “God awful.”

Update: Neko Case has unexpectedly departed the Pornographers’ current tour after taking a bad fall in Washington and injuring her ankle. The melophobe staff wishes her a speedy recovery.

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