EM magazine ::Vol. 05 + Issue Twenty One

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Concert Location: Pomona Glasshouse

Date:
03.21.05

Band Composition:
Kele Okereke: Lead singer/guitarist
Russell Lissack: Guitarist
Gordon Moakes: Bassist/singer
Matt Tong: Drummer

Album:
Silent Alarm (Vice Records, 2005)

Place of Origin:
South London

Memorable Moments:
"Like eating Glass"
"Banquet"
"Pioneers"
"Price of Gas"
"So here we are"

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As you sit back and turn on the radio, you’re nagged by the unrelenting feeling of boredom. C’mon you’ve heard all the same sentiments bemoaning the tug-o-war loss of indie rock to the corporate music industry. And you casually channel surf amongst established rock sensations that came out with their new singles in time for the summer sales and concerts. Yeah, unh huh…heard that one before. Then you pause to the sound of Bloc Party, a band that only recently enjoyed steady rotations on indie 103.1 and KROQ.

Their debut album, Silent Alarm became an instant hit. A plethora of music magazines, both underground and mainstream began touting Bloc Party as the hot new band; the likes of Rolling Stones, Q, NME, et al. Dazed and Confused’s last music issue reserved a section for drummer Matt Tong’s opinions on what he considered his favorite band. In April, they were granted a coveted live show on David Letterman. And only a week ago, they performed the song "Banquet" on Conan O’Brien.

Despite all the media hype, Bloc Party is not a band that takes themselves too seriously. They thrive on the immediacy of their music and a strong rapport with their audience. For sure, there is a place for avante-garde musicians and those that want to completely chuck out the rulebook. However, pop music has the far-reaching capability of affecting the masses. Such albums like Bjork’s “Debut” and Jesus and Mary Chain’s “Psychocandy,” redefined the pop structure amongst the banality of mainstream charts. And now Bloc Party exploded on the pop scene in a media tour de force. They did exactly what they intended to do—they brought something fresh and idealistic to the table and gave the jaded something to dance about when they tune on the radio.

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Let’s rewind a few months back, when the staff of EM attended what Bloc Party called their “first proper” concert in the States. In support of their U.S. release, Silent Alarm, they played at the Pomona Glasshouse, after an exhausting run at Austin, Texas’ celebrated SXSW Festival. The band got their start with indie label, Dim Mak, shortly ensued by their debut release under Vice Records. Bloc Party had all the right stuff, using new wave angular pop structures and driving dance beats, á la Gang of Four or Joy Division; at the same time keeping a sense of relevancy for today’s generation.

Tickets were sold out online in a matter of days; a local indie-rock website had bloggers bemoaning the popularity of this South London group and the difficulty getting into one of their shows. What happened to the good ole days, when the obscurity of independent rock was enough to ensure a ticket the night before?

In spite of this, their performance at the Glasshouse was a far cry from the usual annoyances of a sold-out rock concert. The venue wasn’t dominated by the usual M.O. of scenesters. No synchronized sea of waving hands rearranging asymmetrical hair-dos. No mainstream subscribers to Avril Lavigne’s “Punk for Dummies” manual. No fear of getting beat up by Neanderthal bouncers and, best of all, no hassle with bureaucracy—“er, excuse me, you’ll need the blue wristband to get on to the floor; oh, and a green one to get a drink. And um, sorry, you can’t just step into the bathroom like that, you’ll need the purple wristband to use the toilet”. The Glasshouse maintained the suitable feel of an independent venue housing a crowd expecting to see what they considered to be the band of the year.

Finally the lights dimmed and Bloc Party stepped onto the stage. Matt Tong already shirtless, took his place behind his drums. His furious post-punk beats became the driving pulse that transformed the concert space into a sweat-breaking dance floor. Gordon provided bass and backup vocals; in fashionable irony, he wore a shirt that read, “Stick with Sport” in velour lettering. With his ever-present smile and soaring vocals, Kele grabs the mic and the attention of the audience. He wails: “We promised the world, we'd tame it, what were we hoping for?” and the crowd goes ballistic in true rock idealism. Caught up in the moment, a kid jumps onto the stage and surfs the crowd with outstretched arms.

“I’m surprised how many of you know this, as it is the first track on our album that is set to release tomorrow!” He comments, during a brief segue. His fleeting remark touches on the changing social trends of the mp3 market. A young post-Napster generation clearly on top of preemptive music distribution, his audience probably listened to the entire album on their way there, wired into their milky white iPods. Some probably self-professed download junkies with obsessive tendencies that supersede the speed of record labels, scouts and magazines.

These poster children provide an argument against the moralistic pundit that wags an index finger at the “music stealing” phenomenon. The audience responded to the band with more sincerity and support, as they sang in unison to such songs as “Like Eating Glass” and “Modern Love”. The concert experience intensified, a testament for all independent bands trying to break into this vastly changing market.

Bloc Party fuses the sensibilities of both indie art-rock and palatable pop that has easily outrivaled the corporate rock bands overpopulating MTV. Although Bloc Party originated from the South London scene, they are able to communicate the same feelings to angst ridden Californians. Their songs took on the urban aesthetic and addressed the frustrations having come from a modern over-crowded city themselves. In their song, “Price of Gas” their gripes about London traffic parallel the frustrations of LA car culture and our codependency with our vehicles. Guitars provided by Kele and Russell mimic the sounds of passing cars and screeching car break stuck in interminable traffic.

After the show, we chatted it up in the back with the guys. As I handed over an EM business card that got scuffed in the turbulence on the floor, I muttered in self-deprecation, “here is my card, although it may look slovenly,” to which Russell looked at me with eyes half hidden by long swept bangs. He replied in his soft shy voice, “Its not slovenly, its heavenly.” His boyish charm won me over. And in the same way Bloc Party with their irrepressible surge of idealism and energy has touched a chord with the American audience.

FIN