Neon Indian fans who did not plan ahead were sorely out of luck when Friday’s show at the Rock and Roll Hotel sold out early last week. No longer just the poster boy of chillwave, that night, front man Alan Palomo was an ’80s god.
I had been looking forward to hearing opener Com Truise, but alas, the überlong line to get in foiled my plans. His “’80s video game beats” did sound great from outside, as I watched a few kids without tickets unsuccessfully attempt to buy them for double the price from those fortunate enough to have them. Once inside, after a stop by the bar and a few quick maneuvers, I was able to squeeze into a space up front that some silly person had left in front of him. This show was packed—obviously, he must have been an amateur.
A couple of years ago, I went to see Neon Indian at NYC’s Mercury Lounge. The show was badly oversold, as I had about two inches of excess space around me, and the entire room was that way. There was nowhere to move. I watched with claustrophobic anxiety, wedged on the wall in the back next to a trash can, as somewhere underneath his glorious poof of hair, Palomo danced and sang, backed by his band in the shadows and by images projected onto the wall.
I stayed, overwhelmed, for a few songs, then went to the bar outside and actually cried. The next day, I found out that he was also the mastermind behind VEGA, responsible for one of my favorite jams from the previous summer. This did not help things.
Now, it was time for redemption. Near the stage? Check. At least six inches of room to breathe? Check. Liquor readily available for calming consumption? Check. Palomo then walked onstage to cheers from the appreciative crowd, and sixteen thousand keyboards were in place to accompany him as he grabbed the mic and launched into “Terminally Chill” from 2009’s Psychic Chasms and then this year’s hit, Era Extraña’s “Polish Girl.” His infamous ‘fro was gone, his beguiling curls now just brushed to the side, over one eye. While this is 2011, Palomo and the rest of the band all looked and sounded like they could be straight out of The Lost Boys.
I was expecting a more introspective performance, but like his hair, Palomo’s stage presence has undergone a slick transformation as well. After a few years of touring under his belt, Palomo has the polished ease of a veteran, ably handling and apologizing for technical difficulties with jokes about needing to feed more quarters into his arcade machine, and thanking the audience for sticking around during the interruption, which he compared to “being in the backseat of a car, and you see a flashlight, and you know it’s a cop!”
Despite the equipment problems, Neon Indian acted and sounded much bigger than their status as a microgenre headliner would imply. (Has Rock and Roll Hotel made changes to their sound system recently? Goddamn, it was fresh.*) Drummer Jason Faries solidified my opinion that all electronica should have live drums, with pulsing disco-beats that overpowered even the deluge of synth-pop on stage.
With red and purple lights upon him as he rocked back and forth with the mic during notable favorites “Psychic Chasms,” and “this is the first day it’s been kinda too cold for this song”-introduced “Deadbeat Summer,” Palomo would have been at home on stage with the likes of Robert Smith, the late Michael Hutchence, or similarly charismatic ’80s icon.
In fact, the one minor complaint that I have is that the performance seemed almost too choreographed, although Palomo’s confidence and ease did not ever skirt vanity or laziness. He did seem to be thoroughly enjoying himself as evidenced by the boyish grins that he flashed. This is not the same guy I remember from Mercury Lounge, the one hiding under mounds of curls as he bobbed up and down. This guy could make me feel ok during the end of the world as we know it. [RIP R.E.M.]
While I would have been thrilled if the encore had included VEGA’s “No Reasons,” which (I later learned) the show at Mercury Lounge did, “Should Have Taken Acid With You” would be my second choice, and it included an audience member jumping up and dancing on stage in front of ethereal keyboardist Leanne Macomber. Palomo laughed, still unfazed—“apparently we hired an MC.” He later told us all to buy that dude drinks, but security had whisked him away.
Is this a new era, one where shoegazers are no longer riding ephemeral chillwaves, but are instead looking up from their navels, making themselves familiar to you, and buying you shots? Only time will tell, but if Neon Indian’s Alan Palomo is still leading the chillwave charge, this microgenre will be undergoing some slick transformations as well. Even if he may look like one, Palomo is no “lost boy.”
*Editor’s note: We have been informed that the Hotel has not made any changes to their sound system, and indeed just always sounds that fresh.
Set List:
Terminally Chill
Polish Girl
Hex Girlfriend
Mind, Drips
Future Sick
6669
Fallout
Psychic Chasms
Deadbeat Summer
Ephemeral Artery
Encore:
Heart : Decay
Should Have Taken Acid With You
