Rule number one for going to the Space: Unless you’re Frank Black, do not wear black.
I know this is going to be hard for you. The prevailing fashion attitude in Salem is don’t wash, don’t bother, don’t care, and there’s nothing really wrong with that.
Until you’ve got a black light shining on your shoulders and you realize for the first time that it really does snow in Oregon — and that the snow sticks. I started wondering of Salem could get some stimulus money to buy some Head and Shoulders because there was an avalanche.
(Not that Salem has an out-of-the ordinary dandruff problem; that blacklight is just completely unforgiving).
Okay, now that that’s out of the way, I’ll just say it: If you didn’t get to the Grand Duchy show at the Space last night than you missed the face-rockingest, indie -hoppingest, most karmatastic show of spirit I’ve seen in this town.
Imagine it: One hundred lucky folks crammed into a tiny little space because they grew up listening to Frank Black while he was part of the Pixies, because they can’t believe that they have a chance to see him in Salem for $5, because this was Grand Duchy’s first show EVER, and it isn’t often that music history is made in Oregon’s state capital, because they are curious as to how time and marriage and kids have altered Black’s sound.
The answer? Not much. If you came to hear Black as you know him — and judging by the age differential in the group (I think I saw someone under 30 there, yeah, that guy’s 28. I think) many of us there did — then the show probably exceeded your expectations. He’s as Black Francis as he has ever been, and the addition of his new wife, Violet, who is kind of whiny in a contemplative, indie way, and kind of an angry space cadet on the stage, won’t distract you from a distinctly Frank Black project. In fact, they seem to work really naturally together, (no guitars thrown here).
With his shades on all the time, Black doesn’t give much away about how he views the crowd, but he did tell a pretty great story about the time the producers of Spiderman 3 called Grand Duchy up and asked them to contribute a song to the film — within 12 hours. The result, which the band promptly belted out, was pretty commercial, big-budget movie-fare with a Blackish twist. I kind of love knowing it exists (it didn’t make it into the movie), and I actually liked it.
Oh, that movie sucked anyway.
It was a highly local crowd. Seriously, there was one guy from Portland who raised his hand and wooted when the opening band asked, surely thinking that his voiced would be drowned out by a sea of his city-men. Clearly, that wasn’t the case. I talked to him later and it became obvious that he got the hookup through local connections. But generally, I was left wondering, who are these people and where do they go the rest of the year?
In truth, this was one of the nicest crowds I’ve ever been a part of. The people all chatted with each other between sets, the big dudes moved to the back, allowing the little girls room to see in the front, and if weren’t for that overweight woman dancin’ like nobody’s watching (or standing next to her, for that matter), I would have left there thinking that I had experienced a singularly perfect evening.
Then again, there was a moment when I was talking to my new friend Mikee when the lead singer of the opening band Le Nunes threw a CD out into the crowd and it hit me in the head (if you want to catch the bridal bouquet, my advice is to try to ignore it!)
Well, thankfully, I’ve got a selective memory, and let me tell you, it was a perfect night.
Thanks to Nick Lopez for the photography, you can contact him at nicklopez1 [at] gmail.com.
Here’s the set list for the show:
1. come on over to my house
2. a strange day
3. lovesick
4. break the angels
5. seeing stars
6. ermesinde
7. the long song
8. black suit
9. volcano
10. fort wayne
