Reviewed onWednesday January 4
Parquet Courts are in the process of weaning out the unwelcome contingents of their fan base. In an automated, tongue-in-cheek pre-show PSA (voice set to ‘stereotypical Aussie male’), we are told in among general band and individual member hype that the New Yorkers “are not likely to stray from the setlist, so your attempts to shout out songs are futile”, and that dancing is encouraged but “please no push-moshing. I’m talking to you, tough guy.” These two statements prove prophetic.
They are touring Human Performance, a damn fine record that sees them subtly feeling their way out of the indie punk corner they painted themselves into in the first place. What’s more, they know it’s good; they open confidently with the first six songs from the record in order. With each new song from the album, though, a sneaking feeling creeps in; these songs don’t have the visceral impact the previous two albums did live. As Andrew Savage barks “one-two-three-four!” signalling the breakneck ‘Sunbathing Animal’, I can see the crowd agrees. But I also see why the band is eager to move away from its early primal noise image.
The crowd forms a mess of the type of push-moshing it was warned against, and has separated itself into two factions: music nerds who this band of golden-age-of-indie surrogates naturally attract, and five skinheads whose sole purpose in life at this moment is to hurl smaller people into other smaller people.
The pent-up aggression of the hardcore in the audience has the nerds all scared shitless, scouring the edge of the pushing circle. They all come together again for the complexities of more Human Performance material, only to get pummelled again when the intensity ratchets up with ‘Master Of My Craft’ (a manifesto in song if ever there was one). Not a good feeling at a gig, but they should have seen it coming.
Low Life treated us earlier to one of their trademark feedback-laden doom punk workouts; “You know who the fuck we are / We are Western Sydney!” chanted by a crowd of people who if given the chance would abandon Western Sydney in a heartbeat. Parquet Courts themselves show us time and time again how they can draw such clientele. They are in full control at all times, flitting from the more considered new material to the blunt force of the old, recalling at various points every guitar trend from the history of the instrument, almost all caked in noise.
But Parquet Courts don’t want to just replicate rock history; they want to be a part of it. That might explain the shift in sound on Human Performance, or why they don’t play their most well-known song tonight. Everyone in the audience is OK with this, except for one very vocal drunk man who does exactly what the pre-show voice told us not to do for the entirety of the night.
So Parquet Courts continue to wean, a process that will probably last a few tours. It will be hastened if they can somehow top the masterpiece that is Light Up Gold. ‘One Man No City’ is a good start, though. That song is mint.
