Sailing through to the last tram

Was it my imagination, or did Architecture in Helsinki play a minor-key version of One Heavy February as their opener? In any case, I spent the rest of the evening pining for more from their wide-eyed and euphoric first album. Unreleased in Europe, apparently, which probably explains its absence, but the quiet ache of Like A Call always sends shivers down my spine and I've been jonesin' for a live hit since the last time in 2003.

They're like an old friend who you still feel some affection for, but whose interests have diverged so far from your own that you don't really have much in common anymore. I miss Isobel and Tara — I feel like the band lost its innocence and some of its fun. Their music used to be a delicate, beautiful and haphazardly wrought lattice; now it feels a little violent, a little rough.

I have a special message to all bands intending to play in Zürich: Don't expect enthusiasm. Seriously. The Swiss will rock out, when they choose to, but if they don't know you and haven't come to see you, don't expect crowd participation. Poor Y.A.C.H.T.. His moves were impeccable, his bass pumping, his message a perfectly-tuned blend of 80's self-help tape (Do What You Love! Love What You Do!) and dance-dance exercise video, but although he jumped down from the stage to walk amongst us, that one-meter gap which he so denigrated became an unsurpassable chasm.

I'm reminded of almost anything I've seen at Fri-Son — The Decemberists, for example. When Laura Veirs wandered into the crowd to gather support for her chicken army, defending the nacent Switzerland against the ravages of the Hungarian Empire, she was surrounded by a two-metre field of Swiss-rocker-repulsion. Some enthusiastic Americans saved the evening, although my significant other had to hold me back.

Expectations were most obviously Met by AiH, however, who had the crowd bouncing in unison.

Photo Credit

Ball & Dance @ Rote Fabrik by inthesity. (cc 2.0) by-nc-sa