Bad Veins, Harlequins on Fountain Square, 8.20.10
Whoever decided that it would be a good idea to have great bands play free shows on Fountain Square every Friday night all summer long deserves some kind of award. Seriously, someone go and buy them a beer. Or six.
I have been consistently impressed with the Indie Summer shows I’ve been able to attend, from Scottish crooners Camera Obscura to Cincinnati’s own Bad Veins and the Harlequins. Speaking of Bad Veins and the Harlequins, they both played amazing sets last week.
I got to the square just as the Low Hanging Wires were wrapping up their last song, so I can’t really comment on them. Sorry, folks. But I was there for the full Harleqins set, including right before they went on stage when one of their videos played on the big screen across the street. That was pretty cool.
The Harlequins’ set was full of unfamiliar songs, which probably means that they were new, but may also just mean that they aren’t on Baron von Headless, their stellar debut album. They did play a few tracks from the disc, though, to keep the fans happy and singing along, so it’s not like I’m complaining too much. The new songs sounded a bit more psychadelic and less rocking, but I suspect they’ll solidify more as the band plays them at their hundreds of upcoming shows. Seriously, these guys play out ALL the time. Go see them if you haven’t already.
Lightning Love was on next. I feel like I can’t really judge them based on that set, because for some reason their drummer couldn’t make it and Ben from Bad Veins was sitting in on drums, and they seemed generally kind of off their element. But, basically it was like a twee sandwich, or like a band that wanted to be the Moldy Peaches but was going more for cute than fun.
And then came Bad Veins. The band that everyone was there to see, even if they didn’t know it. It was Ben Davis’s birthday, which he and everyone else told us a hundred times, but I’ll forgive him, because they played one hell of a show. After showing their new video (full of Project Mill folks) on the big screen, Ben played a few songs solo with just him and his guitar before being joined by Seb Schultz on drums and Irene, their trusty reel to reel.
The first time I saw Bad Veins back at one of their first shows, I loved them. Then, at some point, the fact that they wore matching shirts (Ben’s in long sleeves, Seb’s in short) and that Ben sometimes sang into a telephone or a megaphone, and the fact that they had their prerecorded stuff on a freaking reel to reel, of all things, started to bug me, and I thought they were too gimmicky and I gave up on them for a minute. But, seriously, it’s hard not to love these guys. They’re just so stupidly good at what they do. Ben sings his ass off and gestures like he’s about to have a seizure, and Seb looks like he’s having more fun playing the drums than you have ever had in your life doing anything, ever. And the songs…
Bad Veins writes the kinds of songs that I want playing in the soundtrack of all of the really intense moments of my life. Some people call them anthems, but that sounds too upbeat and, well, happy for this sound. No, this is what you play when someone ripped out your heart and you’re bleeding to death on the sidewalk and you manage to crawl over to some building and yell upstairs for help. But, you know, in a good way. Whatever, they’re awesome and you know it. Go buy their self-titled album. Do it, and thank me later.
