Bands: The Orwells, Twin Peaks
Date: Tuesday, March 4, 2014
Venue: Great Scott (Allston, MA)
Twin Peaks – Twin Peaks are on tour with their fellow Chicago brethren, The Orwells. I’ve never seen the dudes before, but I dig what I hear now. They seem to have a similar style as the headliners; mixing the bare bones style of garage with a further reaching, bigger ROCK sound, and not coming off as cheesy might I add.
While I do enjoy Twin Peaks, they play for a little bit longer than I need. Johnny Ramone once said that young bands should play for fifteen minutes. Essentially Johnny is saying hit the audience like a bucket of water with your best material and leave them thirsting for more. Then again, you’re on tour, only two bands are playing, play a long set, enjoy the experience. http://twinpeakschicago.bandcamp.com/
The Orwells – These fine, young men must really love Boston. We’ve been spoiled in the past year, with this being the fifth KLYAM attended Orwells show. The gamut has ranged from somewhat empty clubs to gianormous arenas, and everywhere in between. The band opening for FIDLAR at the Sinclair was the best, until now.
To rewind for one second, last month we saw Chicago’s finest opening for Arctic Monkeys at Agganis Arena alongside Deerhunter. Tasty swells indeed, but let’s face it arenas are just massive shitholes. Like a shithole inside of a shithole for shitholes. The Orwells done well, just they were so so so far away. I want my Orwells right in front of me, staring through my very soul, like one Mario Cuomo (vocals) always does, when he’s not being pig piled by a series of babes and fanboys galore. Needless to say, The Orwells feel right at home here at Great Scott – a 250 capacity venue. Sold out show, may I add.
Yes, the kids are moshing and sloshing and playing and swaying about to all the classic (yes classic!) Orwells tunes and then some. In addition to the band’s standard covers of “I Wanna Be Your Dog” and “Build Me Up Buttercup” apparently they also cover Black Lips’ “Not A Problem.” How do I miss this?!
The set crashes to its conclusion when a fucked Mario hucks the mic stand into the crowd (or maybe that was earlier in the show? I don’t know anymore) as an ensuing storm of hysterical Orwells fans flood the stage and hover over the frontman. Meanwhile, he clutches my hand and stares me down, without blinking once. He’s an odd duck.
All in all, one of the best shows of twenty-fourteen thus far. Orwells we always welcome you with open arms.