Thao at the First Unitarian Church, Philadelphia
by Katie
Nothing could have ruined this show for me.
In the eleven-ish months since “Bag of Hammers” first blessed my eardrums, Thao and the Get Down Stay Down have been staples on my iPod. “We Brave Bee Stings and All” was the background music to my birthday party, and “Know Better, Learn Faster” gets at least one spin a day when I’m at work. Once I entered the hallowed halls of the First Unitarian Church, I knew I wouldn’t leave with unrocked socks that night.
First opener David Schultz and the Skyline left my socks relatively unharmed, though my toes were certainly tapping. Schultz is a typical raspy-voiced guy with a guitar and lots of feelings. His melodies are catchy enough, though the overall sound would be hard to distinguish from any and all other Matt Nathanson types. Furthermore, I would like to know why the stereotype about angsty women with acoustic guitars persists when men do the exact same thing and are classified as “singer-songwriters” and swooned over by 18-20 year old girls*. I’m not saying they were bad; Schultz and the Skyline were competent musicians, and I don’t recall cringing at any lyrics. I’m just saying, feelings are gross.
After a short break, during which Schultz almost took my head off with a guitar case, five cellists took the stage. They were the Portland Cello Project, and they blew my mind. As previously mentioned, I’m a bit of a geek for chamber music; “Danza del Fuego,” their opener, was my favorite of the night (embarrassingly enough). It was a tense and ominous introduction to an ensemble that aspires to take the cello into nontraditional venues and to play nontraditional music on the cello. This translates as “the Mario theme song at punk clubs,” more or less, but just because the song selection is silly and random doesn’t mean the performances aren’t moving. If anything, the warm hum of a string ensemble sounds better than anything else in a wood-paneled church basement.
Fingers and bows swaying in unison, PCP took a subdued but attentive crowd through Pantera covers and original compositions by members. The crowd feebly mustered a few “hey yas” on the chorus of their closer. I’m not sure what the reception has been at other performances, but I was astounded by how politely indifferent the Philly crowd was to a performance that was at once incredibly skillful and wryly playful. In fact, I was so inspired by the performance that I joined a chamber ensemble group on Meetup.com. Thanks, Portland Cello Project!
Finally, finally, finally, Thao and the Get Down Stay Down emerged and hurled themselves into a very physical performance of “Beat (Health, Life, Fire)” that culminated with the band gathering around Willis Thompson’s drum kit and breaking shit down. They followed with “Body,” an even more ferocious performance that had the crowd dancing, but not throwing down quite like Mikey reports they did in New York. She pulled heavily from her two most recent albums, with “Violet,” “Bag of Hammers,” “When We Swam,” “Fixed It!” and more, though older songs like “What About” and a PCP-backed version of “Tallymarks” provided a glimpse at an earlier, folkier Thao than the sassy frontwoman we know today.
And indeed, she’s sassy. In interviews, Thao reports that she’s more extroverted on stage than in real life, which is funny because between songs, she chooses her words carefully and keeps the chit-chat to a minimum. In those brief bursts of banter, she reveals herself as funny and modest. Then in an instant, she’s throwing her hair and wailing into her mic in yet another epic performance of one of her many awesome songs.
My favorite thing about Thao’s voice is the way it almost sounds accidental every time she sings a pitch. Prior to doing my fair share of YouTube research, I feared she might not be able to match her careless, lilting album tone. Unfounded! Like a truly skilled vocalist, she sings as well live as recorded, and with an ease that most people reserve for breathing. While she is singing like a friggin’ badass, Thao deftly picks at her guitar strings, layering lush chords with jagged riffs and, again, making it look effortless. I kind of want to be her when I grow up.
The Get Down Stay Down are not without their charms, either. Willis Thompson’s understated drumming is some of my favorite, and a model I’d hope to emulate if I were a better drummer. He also designed the t-shirt I bought! Bassist Adam Thompson fills out the rhythm section and his impressive range enables him to match Thao’s voice so well, it’s almost eerie. The guy from the Portland Cello Project whose name I’ve completely forgotten also assists, moving from trumpet to keyboard and everything in between. Their skillful use of silence helps distinguish Thao from much modern, noisy rock music.
An emotional performance of “The Give” closed Thao’s main set. In high school, our band director used to say that after a ballad, the crowd should be so moved that they’re silent for about five seconds, absorbing everything they’ve just heard. (He also used to say that people should throw their babies at us from the football stands.) Since then, I’ve always tried to give ballads a few seconds to truly soak in, but until Thursday night, I never actually heard an entire room be completely silenced for a tangible period following the song. If I had a baby, I would have thrown it to Thao in that moment.
The encore consisted of a few surprises, like an impromptu performance of “Moped” in which Thao strummed her guitar with a toothbrush, and an extended blowout for “Feet Asleep” that invited basically everyone involved in the tour to the stage. Though they seemed to sense the Philly crowd’s shyness, and perhaps were not as crazy as they might have been, Thao and the Get Down Stay Down gave us a wholly pleasing, meaty rock and roll show.
