Live Review: MGMT @ the National, July 29

It took about a week to recover from four shows in five days (it’s no mean feat the older you get). The icing on that delightful, if somewhat ridiculous, cake of musical delectableness was my second absolutely yummy MGMT show in as many nights, this one at the absolutely gorgeous National.

I felt like half of Richmond was there with me, the place was so busy. We were treated to fantastic opening sets by Kuroma and Violens, both of whom you should immediately seek out and fall in love with. As for MGMT, well, they picked up right where they left off from the 9:30 show.

A very, very lengthy instrumental intro led into “4th Dimensional Transition,” which felt a bit fast but not horribly so. My favorite MGMT song, “Pieces of What,” was next, and the twang slayed me once more. It’s one of those songs that has the ability to turn my knees to jelly whenever I hear it. Before launching into “Weekend Wars,” the National was sanctioned as a “cool place to play,” which pleased the assembled mob greatly. As for the song itself, well, “Weekend Wars” was spotless as can be, with slightly less bratitude in the vocals than can be found on the Oracular Spectacular LP.

Hank from Kuroma ventured onto the stage to join MGMT for “Of Moons, Birds & Monsters,” and if there is one thing I think we’ve all learned over time it’s that you can never have enough guitars onstage. Hank was a welcome addition to the already full sound emanating from the stage. “The Youth” was next, which felt appropriate given the possible average age of the persons taking in the show.

The kids went absolutely out of their minds for “Electric Feel,” and you’re a stoic soul indeed if you’re not getting into the groove by the end of the song. Age and the need for sleep got the best of me, and as the strains of “Time to Pretend” filled the National, I stopped to ogle the adorable boy manning the merch booth before heading home, visions of electric eels dancing in my head. They’re not your grandparent’s lullabies, but MGMT works for me.

Live Review: MGMT @ 9:30 Club, July 28

It’s already a pretty well-established fact that I’m a big fan of the dynamic duo known as MGMT. Evidently, so are a bunch of other people in the DC metro area, as tickets for the show sold out many days in advance, and my local sources reported Craigslist ticket sales upwards of $100 a pop. I was just excited to finally be able to see the band, instead of just enjoying their musical stylings from a mightily obstructed viewing post at Coachella earlier this year.

If you haven’t yet seen a show at the 9:30 Club, there’s a reason it keeps winning Best Club awards. The sound was fantastic, as usual. MGMT put on a splendid show, thanks in part to that glorious sound system. The addition of three extra musicians proved imperative, as the boys really fleshed out the songs and gave them less of the electro-based vibe found on Oracular Spectacular.

“Weekend Wars” was the opener, and was dynamite. In my notes I have written “the drummer is insanely rad,” because, well, he was. During the course of the evening he did some serious skin-pounding. “The Youth” gave off a whiff of hippie love, but that could just be the longish hair and bandanas both on stage and in the crowd. The crowd who, like at many a DC show, was jam packed but relatively tame. At least, for the first half or so of the show.

My two favorite MGMT songs were conveniently played back-to-back (thanks, guys). First the acoustic guitarily awesome “Pieces of What,” which sounded even better with the live benefit of slightly less nasal vocals. It was atmospheric enough on its own, but made even more so with blue lights and the famous 9:30 Club disco ball. The crowd (finally) got worked into a frenzy as soon as “Electric Feel” began, arms waving and bodies undulating in joyful abandon. Naturally, everyone sang along with the “electric eel” line in the song, yours truly included. It was full throttle after that, with a rather rousing rendition of big deal song “Time to Pretend.” The kids on the floor were going absolutely insane, and with good reason.

I abandoned my balcony perch during “The Handshake,” so there was no “Kids” for me. But a girl has needs, you know. I highly recommend not only seeing MGMT live, but also sampling the Pink and Blue Things at the 9:30 Club’s Back Bar (AKA the bar in the basement). They’ll knock you on your ass, much like MGMT, but it’ll be well worth it. Much like MGMT.

Album Review: MGMT – Oracular Spectacular

I’m going to ask for a big favor. I need a little willing suspension of disbelief for this one. I want you to pretend that MGMT’s Oracular Spectacular isn’t one of the most hyped releases of 2008, ok? Pretend that you haven’t already read about it on everyone else’s blog, and that they haven’t all said it’s the greatest thing since sliced bread (before they, naturally, say how over-hyped it was at the end of the year). I promise to (at the very least try to) make it worth your while. Ready?

Charles Dickens once wrote that “it was the best of times, it was the worst of times.” I believe that comes from A Tale of Two Cities. I never really fell for Dickens, but the convoluted point I’m going for here is that Oracular Spectacular is, for me anyway, a tale of two halves. The first five songs on the album are rather splendiferous, almost magical creations, whereas the second half is a moderate letdown after the glimmering shimmering wonder of the first half. Does that mean the second half sucks, thereby rendering the album not worth the effort? Of course not, silly. Otherwise I wouldn’t be writing about it.

So why do I so enjoy Oracular Spectacular, other than because the name is fun to say (and write)? It begins with “Time to Pretend,” which in a strange way is the musical equivalent of the way I used to feel when taking a train up to New York City, and the train would barrel along out of the wilds of New Jersey and into the somewhat intimidating massiveness of NYC’s lights glittering in the black of the evening. It feels breathlessly pins-and-needles exciting, but with an underlying sense of something looming just beneath the surface. Also, as happens on many songs on the album, I sink my teeth into one particularly goofy line, which makes me fall deeper in smit with the album as a whole. “I’ll move to Paris/shoot some heroin/and fuck with the stars” is the line of choice here. As a proponent of all things ridiculous, for some reason the more off the wall the lyrics are here, the more I love them. The beat-tastic background is also a nice touch. “Weekend Wars” used to perplex me, given the abruptness of its beginning, not to mention the slightly off-key vocals. But the more I listened to it, the better it got. And I love the line, “Now I can shoot a gun to kill my lunch,” which for some reason makes me laugh. I find “The Youth” to be a calming, almost soporific song, fuzzily swirling along on placid seas.

My two favorite songs are back-to-back, “Electric Feel” and “Kids.” “Electric Feel” makes me wonder if the MGMT boys ransacked their Uncle Guido’s 70s sleazy lounge record collection and sampled the hell out of it, and also features my favorite line on the whole album: “shock me like an electric eel,” which may or may not be the actual line, but damned if I’m gonna think otherwise. “Kids” is light on the sleaze but equal in the rad department. Against the throbbing bass, the line “take only what you need” is repeated again and again, and makes me wonder what MGMT were talking about. I like to think of it as being cautionary advice for life in general, but only they know for sure. And that, friends, was the best of times.

The second half is still good, but I find myself increasingly repeating the first five tracks on a fairly constant basis. “Pieces of What” is most excellent, a refreshing blast of acousticicism, with a slight twang creeping in. I’m a Virginian, I like a little twang every now and then. It’s most definitely the best song out of the second half.

All told, Oracular Spectacular is a lot better than most of the stuff you’ll hear this year. MGMT are not to be taken lightly. The first half alone justifies owning the album, and I definitely endorse six of the ten tracks as being gold-standard. It makes you wonder if the hype machine might just be getting things right every now and then.