Of the handful of awesome electronic shows I've seen in the last couple weeksâJustice, Modeselektor, Matthew DearâDigitalism at Chop Suey on October 22 was by far the most fun. The show had a few things working against itâa Monday night, lots of other shows going on, terribly mismatched opening bands, some apparent technical difficulties at the beginning of Digitalism's setâbut none of that could deflate the duo's ecstatic, crushing electro-rock show.
It was a good crowd. From Digitalism's first distorted beat to their scrambled fade out, the whole audience seemed to be dancing, jumping, and pumping fists. It was so nice to see a Seattle crowd on a Monday night freaking the fuck out for a change.
Digitalism deserved all the energy. The duo had kind of a Junior Senior thing going onâthere was one kind of bearish big dude playing drum pads and synths, and one cute, skinny, blond dude playing synths and doing most of the vocals (the exception being big dude's goofy Germanglish boastsâ"I have the biggest party ever"âon an extended take of "Home Zone"). They played most if not all of their tracks from their stealth-missile debut, Idealism, and none of their remixes. Highlights included 12-inch singles "Zdarlight" and "Jupiter Room," the Cure-mangling "Digitalism in Cairo," "Idealistic," the New Orderâechoing ;Pogo," and the aforementioned "Home Zone." What's really impressive about Digitalism is how, for all their gnarly distortion and bit crunching, their sound design remains totally clear and precise. More than anything, Digitalism's live setup and sound and the crowd's endless energy reminded me of last spring's amazing Soulwax show. I can't wait for them to come back.
This is sad, but a 27-year-old rock critic might just be too old for Club Pop. On October 25, somewhere in between drinking champagne in Fist Fite's tour van (hasn't been cleaned since July) and trying to keep up with the kids freaking out down in front of the stage during the band's brutal, tightly chaotic set, the critic's body gave out, mostly around the neck and upper back (but probably also around the liver). The kids, meanwhileâdecked out early for Halloweenâseemed to be doing fine.
October 27 at Nectar saw the Seattle debut of Jaguar Love, the new (postâBlood Brothers?) project of Johnny Whitney, Cody Votolato, and Pretty Girls Make Graves' Jay Clark. The band showed the expected traces of Whitney's Neon Blonde and more recent Blood BrothersâWhitney did his tuneful shrieking, Votolato juggled muscular power chords and wiry riffs on a cool white 12-string, Clark pounded the drumsâbut they were more immediately accessible than Whitney's other projects, favoring straight-ahead rock and grooves over artcore breakdowns and hairpin changes. There were some unexpected sounds in their mix, tooâa classically rocking piano ballad displayed hints of Queen, and an acoustic guitarâdriven number subtly recalled Springsteen by way of the Hold Steady. It's all still warped through Whitney's wail and Votolato's amps, but it suggests a band comfortably growing out of their posthardcore confines. Their songs weren't as insanely catchy as the Blood Brothers' best, but they were a lot less work than that band's recent, lesser material. All in all, it was an auspicious debut.
Headliners New Young Pony Club's first Seattle show was less momentous but still a success. The band started a little sluggishly but picked up by the third song, seemingly encouraged by a lively, kinetic crowd (last they'd checked only eight tickets had sold, and they were happily surprised to find the place fairly full). They peaked with an accelerated cover of Technotronic's "Pump Up the Jam." The bandâdudes on guitar and bass, ladies on keys, vocals, and drumsâis all disco glitter and punk sass, and their singer, Tahita Bulmer, is an arresting, entertaining frontwoman, like an updated Poly Styrene with a Reggie Watts Frohawk. An older guy next to me kept shouting "more cowbell!"âannoying enough when an actual cowbell is involved, but the instrument New Young Pony Club's keyboardist was playing was, in fact, a woodblock. No matterâthe show was a blast.
Finally: Casy and Brian are my friends. Brian used to be in one of my favorite local basement bands, Dalmatians. He also once punched me in the face for pouring a can of pop over his head when we were in high school (I cried at the time, but it's a pretty funny story). After Dalmatians broke up, he and Casy formed Catbees, which became Casy and Brian. The band's career, which has taken them from Seattle to San Francisco, has been a struggle, both against the shadow cast by Dalmatians and against some self-imposed constraints (playing on Dumpstered gear, writing an album of songs about anthropomorphized animals). Their shows are good fun, but their new album, Catbees, doesn't show as much progress in that struggle as I'd hoped forâstill too much jerky drumming, simple synths, and pale gorilla rapping. I wish I could say otherwise. They play the Comet Saturday, November 3, with Clipd Beaks and Partman Parthorse; hopefully, no one gets beat up. 
