The Cooper Temple Clause
w/Calla

Sun March 28, Crocodile Cafe, 8:30 pm, $10 (21+).

When the Cooper Temple Clause stepped into this world three years ago with their import debut, See This Through and Leave, it was a simpler time for bands like theirs who made music that matched the tone and temperatures of our spaced-out, pill-soaked Saturday nights. It was also easy for them to get lost among the gazillion other bands with "the" in their names--and it didn't seem to help matters that their only responsibility became to play these songs the way they knew we wanted to hear them. Black Rebel Motorcycle Club could sing all they wanted to about giving their heart to a simple chord, as long as they seemed indistinguishable to us while playing it. Because for a moment it didn't matter who you were or what you were on; we, the listeners, were finally, suddenly the coolest sight in the room and the only thing we asked was that these bands stayed the fuck out of the way of this. Which is probably why they could so often be found standing in the corner lighting up smokes. Really, we never wanted them to try.

That said, the Cooper totally blew it. If nothing else, the band's recently released sophomore disc, Kick Up the Fire, and Let the Flames Break Loose, sounds like a band vying for your attention. In case that mouthy title didn't tip you off, the Coopers no longer seem content being boxed into the corner; lead Temple-dweller Ben Gautrey has pushed his way to the front of the room, seamlessly alternating between ambitious prog, heady minimalism, and, yes, boozy guitar rock.

The album's first single, "Promises, Promises," sounds like a subtler Nirvana; the rest of it gleams with a Yorke-like appreciation for miniature mood pieces. Gautrey knows that these are artists that couldn't get lost in the scenery even if they tried to, and on the sublime "Talking to a Brick Wall," his band seems ready to make meaningful statements from beneath the spotlight, as he sings, "It's in finding that change/Being happy again." And to think, he didn't even need Jack White to punch him in the face to realize this.

editor@thestranger.com