Seattle has its share of what the haters might call “gallery
rap”—acts like Team Gina, Mad Rad, and the like, acts for whom
the Saturday Knights, with their equal parts hipster
tongue-in-cheek and hiphop bona fides, could be seen as elders of a
sort. After the Knights, Champagne Champagne might be the next
to escape the hipster-hop ghetto. Ex–Blood Brother drummer Mark
Gajadhar (aka DJ Gajamagic) brings years of beat-blasting experience to
his production, and MC Pearl Dragon delivers his ’80s references and
raunchy punch lines with an easy flow.
As something of a techno-dork, I’m always prone to give the producer
some, but Thursday night’s Champagne Champagne set at Club Pop
definitely calls for an acknowledgment of Gajadhar’s production
prowess. Rather than merely queue tracks, Gajadhar played live synths,
effects, and even melodica; he sang the vocal hooks, shook a
tambourine, and twisted knobs throughout. His synthesized bass lines
sometimes reached Modeselektor levels of subwoof, especially on
“Soda and Pop Rocks,” with its mad, low-frequency wobble. His singing
was a nice touch, even—no, especially—when it
drifted off-key for a moment (he was nursing that cold that’s been
going around). His melodica and digital delays lent, respectively, some
sunny dub drift and echoing whale-song spaciousness to his
beats. MC Pearl Dragon and hypeman Thomas Gray delivered as
well—Gray is equal parts gruff and affable; Pearl is alternately
crazily wild-eyed and smiling, not pulling showy tongue twisters but
hitting his rhymes right and swerving into the occasional little
freestyle. But Gajamagic’s journey above and beyond the typical live-DJ
role was most impressive.
* * *
On Saturday night, Noise for the Needy offered three shows
within spitting distance of each other—at Neumo’s, the Comet, and
King Cobra—although dividing attention between just two of them
was challenging enough. Over at Neumo’s, I learned that if you’re not
in the right mood for Matt & Kim—hyper, wide-eyed,
positive, love-struck—then they can’t do nothing for you, man. It
was Kim’s birthday, and someone got her a cake, which was sweet. Matt
told a story about going to the Space Needle to celebrate and splitting
a $45 waffle. They played their usually undeniable anthem “Yea Yeah,”
and in the front, raised hands flopped around and bodies rhythmically
repelled from the floor. Ideally, Matt & Kim’s giddy pop could undo
even the most leaden personal funk, but I just couldn’t feel it.
Across the street at the Comet, things were more my mood, with
Partman Parthorse‘s taut, dark punk workout led by Gary Smith,
who ranted and ranged around the bar in a black mask and matching
hot pants. Over his band’s backdrop of steadily churning riffs,
Smith walked on chairs, poured beer down his shorts, pressed his ass to
the glass for the passersby outside, and sneered unfortunately muddled
vocals about black magic, meeting chicks at the mall, and the other
usual stuff. 