Yeasayer deftly blends old influences with new
Between bands at the Trocadero Wednesday night, the public-address system pumped out a string of '80s hits, heavy on forgettable fluff like Pebbles' "Mercedes Boy." To those who remember the songs' first go-round, their peppy synths and tinny artificial drums are bound to trigger a few unpleasant memories.
Between bands at the Trocadero Wednesday night, the public-address system pumped out a string of '80s hits, heavy on forgettable fluff like Pebbles' "Mercedes Boy." To those who remember the songs' first go-round, their peppy synths and tinny artificial drums are bound to trigger a few unpleasant memories.
But the members of Yeasayer, the Brooklyn quintet that headlined the sold-out show, are young enough to approach the checkered legacy of '80s pop without baggage, folding it into a mixture of influences ranging from reggae and South African music to funk and folk rock. Their reference points overlap with like-minded contemporaries such as Grizzly Bear and Animal Collective, but Yeasayer blends them more deftly. It's less a matter of chemistry than alchemy.
Pride of place went to the array of synthesizers wielded by Anand Wilder, Chris Keating, and Ira Wolf Tuton, which sat atop translucent podiums that glowed in sync with the light show. Wilder played guitar and Tuton played bass as well, although the sounds issuing from their instruments were manipulated enough that you had to watch closely to see who was playing what.
Yeasayer's songs require constant scrutiny, lest they change into something unrecognizable. "Ambling Alp," from the band's second and latest album, Odd Blood, shifted from eerie electronica to mutated dance hall as the song moves from verse to chorus, while the lyrics intermingled fatherly advice and 1930s boxing highlights. "O.N.E." mixed Afro-Cuban rhythms and synthesizer riffs from the heyday of synth-pop, an influence that also made itself felt in the New Romantic quaver of Keating's voice.
At times, the band's omnivorous appetite got the better of it, swallowing the bad with the good. Whatever stale leftovers yielded "Mondegreen's" reference to "making love till the morning light," they're best left by the curb with the Billy Ocean LPs.
Opening duo Sleigh Bells were more narrow but no less audacious in their musical melange. Pairing hard-core guitarist Derek Miller and former girl-group singer Alexis Krauss, the songs topped stomping, distorted beats with Krauss' antic vocals. Although their first album has yet to be released, the crowd had done its MySpace homework, singing along to the manic "A/B Machines" and "Infinity Guitars" as if they'd heard them dozens of times. Don't be surprised if, 20 years from now, Sleigh Bells' hits play over the PA just before some other band hits the stage.