Live Review and Photos: Yeasayer and Smith Westerns, May 22, 2011, Glass House – Pomona, CA

The between-album tour is as good as it gets. No longer is a band supporting a particular album, so this brand of show is the best time to catch a varied assortment of songs from the band’s past. Plus, if you are lucky, the band or artist has already begun work on their next album and debuts some of these songs in the live setting.

Such was the case with Yeasayer’s current tour, which played its second date on Sunday night at the Glass House in Pomona. This was my first time seeing the Brooklyn electro-hippies, but their reputation as a legitimate live force preceded them. And, it wasn’t only their virtually-perfect setlist and genuine performing grace that made their show a success. From the opening bill to the lighting to the abundance of cacti that the band supplied themselves, Yeasayer brought a big-time-band show to a small, all-ages club, confirming suspicions that they are a band ready to make the leap to the next level, and possibly to hypothetical levels beyond that.

The support acts for Yeasayer struck two very different aspects of the audio pallet. Hush Hush is a one-man dance act could be described as “novelty,” but that would short-change how engaging and genuinely likable of a performer that he is. Sure, his songs relied on (clever) shock value for their laughs, with one number revolving around period blood and another around the idea of a sex party, but, well, this can be some funny shit. A sitcom-style applause track was employed to add to the theatrics, and while also amusing, it was unnecessary, as the crowd ate-up his antics and embraced the odd-ball performance art, which is far more than run-of-the-mill openers would get.

Nothing about having Smith Westerns as an opener is run-of-the-mill, as the Chicago five-piece is still riding the wave of overwhelmingly positive reviews for their latest, Dye It Blonde. Hell, the band has already appeared at numerous major festivals and headlined a tour with fellow critical-darlings Yuck, at venues not much smaller than the Glass House, might I add. But, seeing Smith Westerns in a shorter-set, less pressure atmosphere had both its advantages and drawbacks. The band, and in particular frontman Cullen Omari, seemed at ease, knowing that though the crowd might not be totally familiar with them, whether or not they would win them over would have more to do with the fans taste preferences than their talent or mastery of their craft, which at this point is beyond question. Yeah, Smith Westerns played it loose, and though they might not have won a whole lot of new fans, it is severely doubtful that there are many fans at these Yeasayer shows that are left to be won.

From opener “Imagine Pt. 3” to closer “Weekend,” Smith Westerns already have a solid set of jams to perform, but a few cuts still stand high above the rest. Older favorite “Dreams,” which was unveiled at an oppertune moment as a fan yelled “play some low-fi shit,” still sounds like the most urgent song in the band’s catalog. But their best song, “Still New,” makes its money of the guitar-lead-for-a-chorus that is enough to turn the head of even the most stubborn of Yeasayer fan. The uncertainty of the band was obvious, as “Weekend” was introduced as “if you don’t know who we are, this might be the song you are familiar with,” slightly shortchanging the band that has seemed all but inescapable in the first part of the year. As this tour continues, I’d be surprised if the band didn’t learn that the audience was more familiar with them than they anticipate, or than they act like. But, as far as their stage demeanor and resulting performance goes, this might not be a bad thing, as a little bit of I-don’t-give-a-fuck attitude is probably for the better.

Now, before I even discuss the music of Yeasayer, it must be mentioned that the band made the tiny stage of the Glass House all their own. Two wall-sized pixel light boards were brought in to back the group, with numerous additional glow and spot lights to take the place of the outdated houselights. Yeasayer also brought in a number of various cactus species, which primary singer Chris Keating commented “made him happy.” In fact, most everything made Keating happy, including the crowd. Everything, that is, except the glowing Monster Energy Drink sign that hung behind the all-ages venue’s snack bar, which Keating repeatedly, and humorously, lashed out at.

Yes, Yeasayer appears happy and content. After all, they have reached the point in their professional music careers where they can transport their own lighting rigs and maintain numerous plants while on the road. They are also at the point where they can offer shows where they would debut a few new songs and actually excite people, rather than just annoy the fair-weathered fans who want the hits. Either way, the band struck a fine balance, playing to fans of all levels of esteem.

Of the three new songs that Yeasayer played, “Devil And The Deed” and “Henrietta” both felt similar in both vibe and quality as the tracks on Odd Blood, while “Demon Road” had a more primal feel and felt more like an All Hours Cymbals track. The most welcome aspect of all the songs was that none felt trying or out of place, but, rather, fit seamlessly with the rest of the parade of their strongest material.

Still, some standouts were obvious. “O.N.E.” was the biggest crowd pleaser of the night, giving the audience an opportunity to clap along as the tune built to its final chorus. “Madder Red” saw the band provoking a singalong, with Keating noting that “it’s easy to sing-along to, the chorus doesn’t even have words.” “Wait For The Summer” proved Anand Wilder every bit as capable of a frontman as Keating, showing off Yeasayer’s primary strength of having two distinct and exemplary vocalists. And, closer “2080” is still their best song, and, well, one of those songs that few bands can top with their own best songs.

In fact, only “I Remember” fell flat, as something went plain wrong on stage and the band seemed clearly amused throughout the slow-burner. It was bad enough that Keating noted afterward for the band and the audience to both “forget that ever happened,” an ironic twist considering what song had just played. Still, one misstep is hardly worth dwelling on, and honestly, it gave the band a little more personality and charm in the end. Sometimes, it’s nice seeing a band falter, laugh, and apologize on stage, showing they are still engaged and concerned enough to care about both how they sound and how the audience’s experience is. And that one fact is certain, that despite all the lights and cacti and impressive openers, Yeasayer are making a name for themselves through more old fashioned means: quality songwriting, genuine stage presence, and expert musicianship.

The cacti are nice, though.