LIVE REVIEW

The Last Show by George Chen              

I got a random email from Una back in January or February asking me to come table at this all-day show in Princeton. It was like a Chicago math rock Touch & Go extravaganza, and it would end up coinciding with my planned trip to Chicago in May. So I figured it was time to play transnational playboy and look for work in the Big Apple while at it. Plus a genuine interest in seeing all these bands in one place.
I felt ambivalent on the approaching day, trying to figure out a ride situation. The Insound posse were fun to travel with and I lugged my box of zum merch into Chris's minivan. There was also the idea that I was actually going to New Jersey. It was my first time through the tunnel, and though Princeton was more pastoral than I'd expected, the rest of Jersey about fit my preconceptions, at least the parts visible from the highway.
It was sweltering heat and I was tabled far, far from shade. There weren't many people there to start with and it only got a little bit more crowded as Oxes began. They reminded me a lot of the Champs. I got caught up in too many conversations and distracted by cute girls to pay much attention to Rye Coalition. From my vantage point they sounded tighter than usual, just like Rye as played through a massive boombox.
Arab on Radar channeled their Farrelly Brothers-core into a hormonal display, not of alpha males preening but rather the jackal like smacking and salivating that scares off enemies. Enemymine confounded with white uniforms, a karate get up and workman gloves. It was nice to see some West Coast representation. US Maple had played Knitting Factory a few nights prior, and their set was pretty amazing there. It was even more bizarre in an outdoor setting, allowing them to play out more grandiose rockstar posturing. Al Johnson reminds me a lot of Bob Odenkirk, which also makes me view US Maple as some kind of extended Mr. Show skit. I had to hunt for a bathroom during Don Caballero's set, and it was a long, long hunt.
Uzeda featured the only female performer of the entire day. It wasn't an obvious testosterone fest but her presence and power as a vocalist made that absence jarring. Shellac were great, but considering the gender imbalance were all the women who I'd been talking to throughout the day. Why they wondered, was this math rock thing such a boys' club? I'd been thinking the same, what did the "Last Show" mean? The last stand of indie rock? The last time this many bands from Chicago would play together? It sounds like every year there is a Last Show here, the same way people were tolling the bell for the death of rock. For me, the hand-over of this aesthetic baton was inevitable. I'd given up on this genre being relevant to me for a while, but I still found myself liking Seam and Shellac and all these others that have aged with a sense of purpose. It was a great feeling to be a participant and not worry about the ramifications.
We tried to figure out our ride situation, then went to get cheesesteaks. Novelty rap team Dogg and Pony played MC between sets and performed at the supper club afterward and Troubleman's Mike Simonetti played old hip hop records. I met this awesome girl who was visiting NYC just like me. And I think I saw Ian Williams light one of Steve Albini's farts. The Last Show indeed.