‘Great disaster, shocking sight’: no, we don’t think the singer-guitarist Daniel Rossen about us when he ‘Aquarian’ began in the Marquee. Grizzly Bear summarises ten years of universal confusion in uncannily beautiful and at the same time, whimsical pop songs. The decor, something between the cave of Ali Baba and the web of the eight-legged bastard son of Godzilla, veruitwendigde accurate that thought.
Once was a Grizzly Bear the gold of the blossoming Brooklyn scene, with superb albums like Veckatimest and Shields in the collar on the road seemed to be the American Radiohead. But the focal point of the pop moved to LA, there was a lot wrong in the lives of the band members, and the bear went into hibernation. Half a decade later, the world looks suddenly very different. Are comebackplaat Painted Ruins seemed to be already in advance on a relict from a completed past time, not a lot of people found their way to the Marquee.
Not to worry. ‘Take the past, own your scars, let it show’, sang frontman Ed Droste in ‘Losing all sense, a pianoriffje that is not on the Double white Beatles had been out of place. Who are scars with pride wears, looks brighter to the future.
Moment de gloire
The Americans crowned himself again to be masters of emotion. The flannel legs deployed ‘Yet again’ hit you helpless against the wooden floor with his in the bud strangled euphoria and subtle harmonies, the like tender ballad in disguise ‘Fine for now’ and tore it to your final to pieces with his ominous, scorching slot. In ‘Ready, able’ end of the stately fiftiescrooners in a psychy koortsdroom, and the clanging guitars of ‘Sleeping ute’ as drunken harps around your mind dancing. Head, throat and so on.
And when diste the band ‘Two weeks’ on, sixties pop on a hiphopbeat and after ten years still Grizzly Bears moment de gloire. The sparse audience cheered finally got the lungs out of the body.
What then followed felt like an encore, but what a: the brittle ‘While you wait for the others’, that the cave in an orange and blue glow onderdompelde. ‘Three rings’, unruly guitars propelled by a knekelorkest, seduced by the flute, bassist Chris Taylor. And the sublime suite called ‘Sun in your eyes’, to pop with a jazzy cut that same Taylor, a saxophone korzelig left rubbing up against the expressive thumping from drummer Chris Bear. And as an early autumn leaf down fluttering piano notes of Rossens Wurlitzer: shocking, but great!