If you’ve ever heard of the latest viral sensation in rock music, chances are good that KEXP had a lot to do with this. The radio station’s YouTube channel handled introductory duties for me to the world of Dry Cleaning, their minimal driving music instantly attaching to several receptors in my brain, and Florence Shaw’s deadpan and slightly surreal delivery sealed the deal. “I’ve come here to make a ceramic shoe, and I’ve come to smash what you made.” Bingo.
Three of the songs in that session have been granted Dry Cleaning chestnut status in terms of the amount of plays, and we got three (though “Viking Hair” was swapped out for “Magic of Meghan”) but the gist of this tour was to promote their newest record Secret Love. And if you like that record, you were in luck since they played every song form it.
Sonically it’s a bit of a shift from the previous records, mainly in Shaw’s delivery. She holds onto notes a bit longer, as if she’s almost singing; on the title track, she crosses that Rubicon. Dressed in baggy jeans and a plain white t shirt, she still had her long straight hair parted down the middle and would gaze out in all reaches of the room during songs. Guitarist Tom Dowse’s parts are a bit more subdued on this record, and to balance that out, bassist Lewis Maynard approached the performance with a far more physical presence, his braids whipping about violently on “Evil Evil Idiot.”
The other departure on the new record is that a lot of it is much more overtly danceable. Before “My Sou/Half Pint,” Dowse did his own little dance on stage before exhorting the rest of the room to join in, and continued to expertly move his feet around his coiled guitar cord and avoiding any embarrassing trips. “Let Me Grown and You’ll See The Fruit” saw Nick Buxton leaving his drum seat and grabbing a sax for a bit. Loads of small tweaks made to their sound, but the raw edge was lacking a bit, perhaps by design. The band rectified that with a burning version of “Conversation” to end the regular set, hearkening back to their first, cassette-only release. Exactly what I needed (despite the bass heavy mix; please give Dowse a bit more bite next time)!
Openers YHWH Nailgun tried pretty hard to not be in the mold of a traditional band. First off, there was no bass, just a guy with a keyboard making those frequencies (no Doors covers were attempted). Second, the guitarist played nearly every song using his wah-wah pedal to attenuate his tone and volume. It had an initial allure but then got repetitive quickly. The drummer was by far the best part of the band but the excessive use of his toms made it sound like those street buskers outside Fenway park who bang away on empty joint compound buckets. And that leaves the weakest part of the band, their singer Zack Borzone. Indistinguishable howls and weird body writhing don’t automatically make for a compelling front man, and he could have been singing in Esperanto for all I could make out. Imagine a bunch of high school kids trying to be a Belew-era King Crimson cover band, fronted by a Tourette’s patient with a terminal hernia. No thanks.
