Anyone who has ever seen ‘Spinal Tap’ knows that the first rule of rock n’ roll touring is to avoid cities that don’t know (or don’t care) that you’re coming. Sure, these situations are a chance to win over new audiences, but at the same time you run the risk of headlining dental conventions or opening up for puppet shows. Friday night at the Middle East, Andy Stochansky found out what happens when you ignore this rule, and for a few minutes it looked like it might get the better of him. Luckily, for the twelve or so of us in attendance, he turned in a command performance-all things considered.
Stochansky has been the subject of substantial media buzz in recent months following the release of his critically acclaimed Five Star Motel. Apparently, the show was a last minute addition, and with no mention of it in any weekly papers or even on Stochansky’s own website, some pony-tailed road manager somewhere must have thought Andy could carry the bill by word of mouth alone. Well, he was wrong. Downstairs at the Middle East is a small-ish club, but in its emptiness the place must have looked like the Hollywood Bowl to Stochansky as he and his band took the stage.
To his credit, Stochansky hid his frustration well in the beginning. He and his four-piece band of shoe-gazing compatriots blazed through a set comprised of songs from the new album. His voice sounds like a slightly raspier but less edgy copy of Bono’s, which works nicely with the catchy melodies of the songs. The effect is something of a Canadian version of Coldplay, minus the trademark close-cropped haircuts and overt political activism. There is no new ground being broken here, but the delicate lyrics of songs like ’22 Steps’ and ‘Paris’ place Stochansky somewhere near the upper tier of an ever-growing new breed of singer-songwriters vying for commercial attention.
While most of the songs were well received and met with smatterings of applause, the frustration of the low turnout eventually led the previously subdued Stochansky to lose his temper. During a quiet moment in one of his slower songs when the lead guitar player traded his ax for a gentle xylophone, Stochansky ripped into a pair of obnoxious drunks at the bar who were ruining the moment:
‘You know, we drove a long f—ing way tonight, and you can’t even let me have this,’ he said bitterly, before reconsidering. ‘I mean that in the nicest way of course’ (Rule #3 of Rock n’ Roll: never provoke drunken guys from Southie, no matter how nice the xylophone solo).
After about an hour Stochansky ended the show, and brought the band back out for a couple encore tunes. As two girls by the stage yelled out requests for songs from his previous album ‘Radio Fusebox,’ Stochansky started to lighten up a bit. He thanked the crowd for coming out, and admitted that he half expected to be playing for just the waiters and waitresses. The ugliness of the bar incident was forgotten.
With nothing to lose, Stochansky declared his intention to try a cover for the first time, and what followed was one of the freshest and genuinely exciting rock moments I’d ever witnessed. Rule #4 of Rock n’ Roll: when in doubt, appeal to the Gods for delivery from evil!
Luckily this divine intervention was an impromptu rendition of The Who classic ‘My Generation.’ The band worked out the arrangement in about 20 seconds, which was just long enough for Keith Moon to put down his bottle of Johnny Walker in rock n’ roll heaven and possess Stochansky and company. In short, it brought the house down. As he acted out his Roger Daltrey fantasies, Stochansky seemed to really enjoy himself for the first time all night, forgetting that he was playing to an audience that only barely outnumbered his band. A fitting end, since Rule #5-the most important rule of all-is to play your heart out every night, no matter how big the crowd.
