Tom Verlaine and Jimmy Rip of Television onstage in Barcelona last month. They looked exactly like this last night at the Moore except that Verlaine was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, and no one in the Barcelona audience is demanding a goddamn foot rub. Jesus.
Tom Verlaine and Jimmy Rip of Television onstage in Barcelona last month. They looked exactly like this last night at the Moore except that Verlaine was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, and no one in the Barcelona audience is demanding a goddamn foot rub. Jesus. Christian Bertrand / Shutterstock.com

The venerable punk-era-but-not-punk-rock band Television played at the Moore Theatre last night, and the modern age asserted itself almost immediately. After "See No Evil," the very first song (not counting a brief instrumental intro), which was bookended by huge ovations by an audience that was very excited to see these guys play, the first of many long tuning breaks ensued. Main guy Tom Verlaine said a few words and then a voice from the floor spoke up, yelling "FIX THE SOUND!" "Okay," Verlaine replied. "We're gonna fix the sound. What's wrong with it?" "Muddy!" The audience guy yelled. An awkward moment followed, before someone else called out "I think you sound great!" "Great, thank you," Verlaine laughed and they launched into "Elevation." This was hardly the most intrusive heckling episode anyone in the room had ever seen, but it made me wonder just how dire the state of our on-demand entertainment culture has gotten. I mean, who did this asshole think he was talking to, Siri?

Fix the sound?

I'm not even that into Television, but goddamn, dude. Maybe they could put a little more ice in your drink while they're up?

The Moore is a notoriously difficult room to mix for rock, and the engineer was doing a fine job, but acoustic facts are acoustic facts. This guy was seated (as was I) on the main floor under the balcony overhang, which tends to interfere with the crisp equalization of sonic elements that you might hope for from, say, the Dynamiks Ultimal system in your new condo, or the Blaupunkt in your Tesla. The guitars were loud and clear. That's what the band is for.

More to the point, though, you shout that to the band? To what end? To let them know you're not having as perfectly delightful a time as you demand to? That they should pause and maybe twiddle a few knobs until they dial in a sound that's more pleasing to this one man (out of more than 1,000 in the house, whose reverent, robust applause made it clear that the sound was just fine). To announce that you've never been to a live show before?

The rest of the show was good (several-minute tuning breaks between every song notwithstanding) and occasionally monumental (and speaking of monumental, local powerhouse Jessica Dobson's solo opening set was one for the books, in some ways more impressive than the headliners', given the weight of history), but that one guy made as strong an impression as any of the music. It was (A) a major drag that threatened to derail a train that was still only warming up its engines, (B) rude as hell, and (C) evidence that people increasingly aren't aware that there's a difference between the public sphere and their private little pleasure center.

What, like youre gonna go to the Television show and not take a picture of the MARQUEE?
What, like you're gonna go to the Television show and not take a picture of the MARQUEE?

Set list (courtesy of my august colleague Dave Segal, who knows the band far better than I do):

Intro
01 See No Evil
02 Elevation
03 Prove It
04 Friction
05 Torn Curtain
06 Venus
07 Guiding Light
08 Marquee Moon
ENCORE
09 Persia [new song]
10 1880 or So [from 1992 s/t LP]