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I was a bit concerned about My Dearest Screwtape on the basis of the name. I didn't want to deal with ill-thought-out overt Christianity. As it turns out, this is not a problem. They are a four-piece, with a singer, a singer/keyboard player, a guitarist, and a drummer. The guitar and drums are pretty minimal, when they play at all; this is primarily a keys and vocals band. (I'm kind of glad about that, since the drummer has a jazzy, brush-heavy style and the guitar has this reverby Hawaiian guitar sound that I find quite annoying.) Their music is pretty loungey and languid, with covers that include Nancy Sinatra and Patsy Cline. (And The Velvet Underground, but at their most loungey and languid.) There are things to like here: one of their songs jerks back and forth between a sultry four-beat and a sprightly waltz with comical rapidity, the woman who sings has a great voice, and the guy who sings and plays keys is an excellent keyboard player. But I can't really get into it. I don't drink enough to like lounge music.
I saw Ketman once before, and I remember being frustrated by the mix. Tonight it's really, really good, and I can hear everything clearly. I think they also have a new drummer, and she's pretty good; a bit of trouble on the most complicated patterns, but she's ambitious, and solid through a profusion of turn-on-a-dime tempo changes that keep things lively and interesting. The songs are fast, punky numbers with an early-Nirvana sort of cheerful snarl to them. Not a lot of vocal melody—the bassist in particular mostly just screams the songs that he sings lead on—but there are a few tuneful bits, and mostly I'm focused on the guitar lines, which are noisy and surprising and excellent. There's a fantastic, dysphoric pitch rolloff effect that he gets from the whammy bar, which he uses sparingly and very well.
The focus of this show is The Stairs. It is their last show ever, and O'Brien's sells out while they're getting set up. It's packed and hot and sweaty, and the room is full of ardent and vocal Stairs-love. They've also gotten an ex-member to come back for the occasion, so there are six of them crammed onto O'Brien's stage—seven when they have a guest vocalist. Their music is a weird kind of sprawling indie pop, with polished and hooky choruses that lead into some fairly wanky jam sections. Like the previous time I saw them, I find this show a bit frustrating. These songs have great bones: solid melodies and rich arrangements, and the snippets of lyric that I can make out are engaging. But the execution is muddy and sloppy. They don't even sound like they can't do better; they sound like they're not bothering. Actually, they sound kind of drunk. I'm thinking I should get a CD, because they're probably great when they can polish and edit. We stay for about a normal set's worth, then leave them to finish their time as The Stairs with their adoring fans.
