It was a spectacle on par with the religious revivalism of the Second Great Awakening. Frontman Alex Ebert of the ten-piece folk-rock outfit Edward Sharpe & The Magnetic Zeros was like the Messiah preaching to the sold-out audience at downtown L.A.’s The Mayan Theater; I felt like the only non-believer in the joint. I enjoyed the band’s debut LP Up From Below, but seeing the live gig registered as gimmicky and brought to life some of the lyrical corniness that I try to overlook in listening to their album. While the floor quaked in the opening bars of the breakout single, “Home,” I was appalled by the hillbilly twang at the first line: “Alabama Arkansas I do Love my Ma and Pa,” as Ebert pranced around. I wanted to have the time of my life and recommend the show, but I could not wait to get out of there.
So, what happened? I’ve been thinking about it for a few days since Monday night’s show, and want to say it’s not my cup of tea. Even that would not be true though, dear readers, because I listen to “indie-folk” all the time and love it. I love alt-country. And I don’t hate the album, but the delivery turned me off. Whereas it took the band a year-and-a-half to make the record and they did it solely on analog tapes (cool), the show reeked of trying too hard. Maybe I wanted something a bit more sophisticated or challenging and that’s just not what this act set out to do. Songs are simple enough. Ebert plays into the role of Christ figure when he wears all white loungewear (long sleeve tunic with cropped wide pants), a red scarf and his hair tied up and braided as if a crown (of thorns?) or that style popular in spring 2008. It felt disingenuous.
It was disorganized and Ebert said they were going to pick songs “the confusing way” and essentially discuss on-stage which numbers to do. Some may find that endearing, but I found it to be in direct opposition to the otherwise coordinated production–the lighting, the three screens with film of the band and cuts of the audience, and the instrumentation. There were technical difficulties throughout the performance–no one’s fault, but certainly distracting–but it overall felt like a place to go to see and be seen.
That is not my cup of tea at all. The set felt long and I was bored; it was quite a new experience. Maybe if I was boozing I would have been rollicking and flailing my arms for Ebert to reach out and touch me. He ventured into the audience a few times, and I did think it was cool that the audience surrounding him formed a circle and clapped along with him. However, I still interpret him as a Christ figure and Ebert is truly a parody of himself. The intimate fan interaction hinted at what the band is about more so than the high-energy theatrics: a sense of belonging to a close-knit family. I wish Jade Castrinos could shine more because she is something special and stuck beneath Ebert’s shadow. I know I’m one of the few who didn’t like the show, but alas, I found a few nice things to say.
Dear Alex,
I don’t mean to hate, our styles just don’t coordinate.
Loading ...
finally someone who has a realistic opinion about this band. this christ-figure crap makes me want to puke. especially when it’s framed with mediocre jam-rock. this band is headed to it’s apex real quick.