In today's music market, littered with objectionable hype and gratuitous revivalism, one could easily dismiss Ima Robot. In spite of this, the band boasts what others lack - a charismatic front man, commanding live performances and intelligent songwriting.
Spastic, mulleted leader Alex Ebert, Robot's visionary and a former emcee, commanded a half-full 9:30 club despite the band's painfully early set time. As the audience trickled in while the set progressed, Ebert entertained and confused the masses with his eccentric Perry Farrell-Pee-Wee Herman hybrid personality.
Robot performed favorites off its new self-titled LP, the content of which ironically juxtaposes retro '80s new wave among predictions and proclamations regarding our future. Apocalyptic anthems "Dynomite" and "Here Come the Bombs" were performed early in the set.
"Black Jettas," a momentum gaining single, highlighted the set. The song reflects Ebert's paranoia with the German automobile, as all of his ex-girlfriends coincidentally drove one.
D.C. natives the French Kicks mid-carded the show in front of a receptive home crowd, blending mod-pop and formulaic garage with sporadic rhythmic, new-wave. Unfortunately, the Kicks stood in place the majority of the show and lacked the energy of either Ima Robot or Hot Hot Heat.
The French Kicks set was consistent with its release "One Time Bells." Sometimes entertaining, sometimes boring, but displaying its potential for escaping mediocrity.
In less than one year, Hot Hot Heat, a vibrant dance-rock band from Victoria, British Columbia, went from opening for Common Rider at a 100-person Black Cat show to headlining and filling the 9:30 club.
When "Bandages," the first single off the Sub Pop/Warner Bros. release, "Make Up the Breakdown," hit the pulse of the scene in March of 2003, it seemed as if the band was slated for the indie rock hipsters that would hang out pretentiously puffing American Spirits while listening to Les Savvy Fav. However, something strange happened, and "Bandages" helped lay the groundwork for the mainstream resurgence of '80s new-wave, dance-rock or whatever label describes Hot Hot Heat's sound.
Merging keyboards with shimmering guitars and over-the-top vocals, Hot Hot Heat came out in top form Friday, Oct. 10 at the 9:30 club. With the first notes of its set, audience members were kicking their feet up and reveling in the glory and, quite possibly, the revolutionary politics of dance. With some hip thrusts and a bit of sweat, ultra-infectious tracks including "No, Not Now," "Get In Or Get Out" and "Oh, Godamnit," kept the crowd dancing for a solid hour.
Opening with "Save Us, S.O.S." off of "Make Up The Breakdown," Hot Hot Heat instantly fueled D.C.'s fire, allowing scene-ster songs including "5 Times Out Of Time" off of the "Knock Knock Knock" EP to enter into the evening's envelope and not disrupt the flow of normalcy. To be fair, the ability to keep everything in gel should be credited to the band, especially vocalist-keyboardist Steve Bays and bassist Dustin Hawthorne, who worked the stage like they were still paying their dues.
Hot Hot Heat's relevance to the present state of music is unquestionable. By helping bring an underground sound to the forefront of the industry, these four guys from British Columbia, who used to play mediocre hardcore, have helped shift the paradigm away from jock-rock, jock-core and seriously depressing, dopey music and have opened the door to a nouveau concept: positive dance rock.
