Last Night: Delta Spirit At Fitzgerald's
I am concerned that younger bands these days are not learning the proper value of restraint. It's not even a generational thing, really. I had very little appreciation for or understanding of restraint myself until fairly recently, but a heart attack at age 36 will sober you up pretty quick.
But I see far too many bands who are just trying too hard when it doesn't seem like they need to, or should. Everything must be louder than everything else, and there's no reason to use a simple 4/4 backbeat for a song when a complicated polyrhythm borrowed from Paul Simon's Graceland (or Vampire Weekend's first album) will suffice.
For that matter, why use just a single drum kit when you can drag half your average high-school band hall's percussion section onstage with you? (I blame Arcade Fire.) You could have opened a decent-size music store with all the keyboards, drum pads, pedals and other gear Delta Spirit brought to their show at Fitz Thursday night.
Luckily, all of that crap only halfway got in the way of the show.
Delta Spirit is a talented, promising young five-piece that recently moved from Long Beach, Calif., to Brooklyn and released their third album, Delta Spirit, last month. Houston loves them. Delta Spirit has only been around seven years, arising from the ashes of the appropriately named emo band Noise Ratchet, but probably played Walter's on Washington a half-dozen times and packed Fitz to the rafters this one.
They play a blend of steroidal California folk-rock and darker modern-rock that veers dangerously close to goth in some places. Naturally, I liked the songs like "California" that reminded me of the Cure ("Boys Don't Cry," not "Fascination Street") more than the ones like "Tear It Up" that sparked Edward Sharpe & the Magnetic Zeroes. They have a strong kinship with their fellow former San Diegan Tom Waits, at least judging by "People C'Mon."