Burn Sand Burn, Circle Number Dot and Wetlands
hi-dive
Thursday, August 20
Better Than:
more soul-killing boredom
Now, my tastes generally run pretty poppy (I
like Dressy Bessy), and to that end, Wetland's prog-metal is not really
my style. But like those great prog bands of yore, Wetlands, who opened the show, play songs that are
ultimately anchored in sweet, satisfying hooks. And while the act's overall sound errs on the sludgy side, the band masterfully executes
the unexpected phrase and the jarring loud/quiet juxtaposition. And the
willfully retarded and badly sung lyrics (wisely, the singing is
sparse) somehow work, bringing an element of silly self-deprecation to
an otherwise challenging mix. If Rush were distilled into malt liquor,
drunk and thrown up by the Melvins and then run through a distortion
pedal, it might come out something like Wetlands.
During Circle Number Dot's set, I thought about an Exploited shirt I saw earlier in the day that said "Punk's Not Dead." Circle Number Dot made me disagree. While I surely would have creamed my pants over the band's shouty, Minor Threat-y punk rock when I was fifteen, that shit just doesn't do anything for me anymore. And it's not that the band wasn't good: The drummer beat those things as hard and fast as the DPD beats protesters, and the bassist laid down some pretty sweet Matt Freeman-style shreddage. But -- and maybe this is just my age talking -- I really need more from a song lyrically than the word "hey!" repeatedly shouted for three minutes these days.
Critic's Notebook
Personal Bias: I'm jealous if everyone in Wetlands' hair. Damn you, baldness!
Random Detail: The lead singer of Burn Sand Burn made little hand motions to go along with his lyrics
By the Way: I borrowed a fancy camera to take pictures, which worked out well until the last set, right before which I pressed some button that made the camera not take pictures anymore, and I couldn't figure out how to make it take pictures again. So I didn't get any of Circle Number Dot. Sorry about that.