article and art by Linnea Anderson
venue: Kilby Block Party in Salt Lake City, Utah
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if a concert could also be a military drill, this might be it. not because it was flavorless or completely rehearsed. but because it was disciplined and coordinated.
it wasn’t a show. it was a ceremony.
at first, it was difficult to distinguish who the drill sergeant was; who’s orders were they following?
was it the audience? were they only attempting to please us?
no.
they were conducting their own orders. they were watching and critiquing and perfecting themselves in live time.
it was a drill because Yo La Tango entered stage with a set list but without sheet music. it was a practice of sorts. with long musical interludes diverging and arriving at places completely unknown until they were over.
the audience was privledged to follow them down the winding path. the band had the foresight to know it would be good to us.
there was a sense of trust in that. first, between the members of the band, then beyond and into the audience.
yet, this faith was not without some reservations.
some vast and endless guitar lick would trigger the audience to sneer and pull their head back. trying to imagine where he could be going.
the performers would watch each other blankly and methodically, peaking around every once and a while to check that they were still on track.
their fairly humble set up produced a strikingly versatile collection of sounds and songs. when orders came, the band members would quickly switch instruments and begin anew. no crowd work needed, they knew what they were here to do.
they were nearly expressionless aside from the odd ways they handled their instruments, like they were something to be toyed with. pawing at the keys and slapping the strings. at one point, the guitar was completely inverted with its head pressed against the stage. he was attempting to create a crater just before our eyes, hoping the sound might resonate better that way.
They thanked Kilby Block party towards the end of the set for “giving a young band like [theirs] a shot”.
The older folks in attendance caught the irony and chuckled, while the frat bothers, clothed in neon, continued to gyrate.
it was unpredictable but not erratic. the audience tapped in and tuned out at different phases.
it might take drugs or a super fan to follow the entire set’s intricacies; the performers were there but the rest of us needed some time to catch up.
it’s hard to believe that was not their intention because it is certainly part of their appeal. too many variables and so much versatility.
if someone asked me what Yo La Tengo sounds like, i’d be too embarrassed to answer.
if they wanted the audience completely tuned to their frequency, i suggest they invest in combat boots and semiautomatic weapons. keep us in line and on target. i’ll write to their manager.