Sometimes, if you're lucky, you can catch a band at the golden halo moment before they march off to bigger and better things. Then, years later, you can tell a funny story about how you knew them back then. I can't promise that Bad Veins are one of those bands, but it feels like they think they are, and their free hometown record release party on Friday night (July 24) definitely felt like a coming out party.
Here's the thing: Yes, Bad Veins are from my hometown and I'm always eager to spread some love for any bands making righteous noise around these parts (check out Wussy, Moth, Cari Clara and Foxy Shazam). But there's more to it than that.
The duo of human piston drummer Sebastien Schultz, 26, and laconic singer/guitarist/keyboardist Ben Davis, 29, have gotten where they are in just a few shorts years with that rare combination of business savvy and artistic vision. They never handed out demos, recorded their just-released debut before getting signed to Silverlake, California indie darling Dangerbird Records (Silversun Pickups, Sea Wolf, Eulogies) and have already landed their music on the MTV Movie Awards and "The City" way before most of the world had heard of them.
Always buzzing with nervous energy, Schultz admitted before the show that the Veins want their music everywhere (movies, TV, radio), even as he marveled at how far they've come in such a short time. "Our record was out on Tuesday and I'm a professional musician now," he said, eyes wide, just before he and Davis took the small stage on downtown's Fountain Square in front several thousand fans, one of the largest Indie Night crowds of the summer. "It feels pretty good. We want to do everything."
The band's secret is Davis' knack for writing yearning, fuzzed out pop songs that straddle the murky divide between glum rockers the National and the nervous energy of the Strokes, as evidenced by their first single, the propulsive rocker "Gold and Warm." Avowed studio rat Davis accents the 10 songs on BV's self-titled debut with lush, orchestral arrangements, horns and harpsichords, Schultz's metronomic beats and insistent hooks that creep into your brain and won't let go.
Davis likes to obscure his vocals through a telephone receiver/microphone and megaphone during shows, as well as their secret weapon: A creaky 1973 reel-to-reel tape machine named Irene that helps beef up their sound on stage and sometimes causes technical glitches. But when it all falls together — like it did on the swaying, slowly-building New Orleans funeral anthem "Found," the big screen broken hearts club lament "You Kill" and my favorite live track, the robotic rehab soul shaker "Dryout" — the pair pump out a thick sound that belies their sparse set-up.
Nobody ever accused me of having my finger on the pulse, but I have a feeling about Bad Veins.