Falling in from the rain about an hour late to find that I was still too early for the S-S-S-Spectres, it was immediately apparent that the spectacle was worth the wait when the band emerged from the dark bowels of the Cake Shop backstage sporting white garlands perched atop their skulls. While I initially imagined that they chose to don this exotic choice of head apparel because they had prevailed in some sort of athletic competition, perhaps a relay race, as they continued to play, it became obvious that, because they were aware that they would perform a winning set in advance, they intended to be the embodiment of victory itself. While they had the heads bobbin’ to their tightended up multi-voiced art punk compositions throughout their brief nitrous balloon of a set, the highlight came during the break of “Possession Confession,” when their bassist sang, “I went to live with my parents,” and motioning towards his right, continued, “who are immediately to your left.” And, as sure as the JMZ Train doesn’t come around all that often late at night, a handsome middle-aged couple, the masculine half of which bore a striking resemblance to the said bassist, were indeed immediately to our left, looking on with expressions landing somewhere between parental pride and puzzlement… and “let’s be good sports for now and tomorrow get this boy the heck out of New York and put him somewhere where he can find the proper care and attention.”

Next, Silver Daggers offered more proof that that L.A. sucks less and less and Load Records continues to get more and more soulful. Crowding the diminutive stage, the quintet wasted no time conjuring a kinetically dense ruckus that was a playful amalgamation of organization and improvisation. As they landed on an uncharted island somewhere far between the distant poles of Accept’s balls to the wall and Excepter’s balls to the black hole, there was nary a dry ear in left the house. While the high pitched vocals, skronky sax, discordant guitar, and funky rhythm section would certainly make a New Yorker cry, “no wave!,” I merely cried, “fire!” – only because this unique band was burning it up as if it were the LA Times Building. Of course my hollering didn’t cause anyone to panic, or even take notice, because 1) they couldn’t hear me ‘cause it was loud, 2) everyone knows that I’m an unreliable bag o’wind so they never listen anyway, 3) which probably means said no such thing and am making that part up, and 4) no one would’ve left anyway because the band was that unbelievable. But really, take my word for it, Silver Daggers, both assaulting and entrancing you with the retardo clang and thunder of their loose tightness, are an ideal source of those unlikely epiphanies that make music worth listening to.

Finally, the Fugue, who were apparently tied up by their singer backstage, performed with three imposters among their ranks, including the Silver Daggers drummer. The din produced by this odd assemblage was not unlike the late-night DOT street construction crew that plays encores under a spotlight across from your apartment all night long.

Read NewYorkNightTrain’s review of from new high & ord
Download a FREE MP3 Silver Daggers’ “Joy” at NewYorkNightTrain’s Digital Dump
Go to the Silver Daggers Load Records page