Murder City Devils Live @ Henry Fonda, February 17 & 18, 2009
I am going to do everything in my power to not make this concert review a full-on love letter to Spencer Moody, but I won’t lie, it’s going to be difficult. For two nights this week, The Murder City Devils took over the Music Box and reminded you exactly why you asked Santa for this reunion every Christmas for the last few years. Here are some random thoughts from both nights.
I haven’t seen this many pairs of black frame glasses since I saw the Rentals last year. As a girl who loves a man in vintage spectacles, the concert was already a victory. However the highly anticipated concert box set was already sold out and the line for beer was worse. Something I noticed the minute I walked in the place, there was no apathetic LA vibe to be found. People were genuinely excited and antsy, as if they weren’t completely convinced this was really going to happen. After a few minutes of amusing poetry, the Murder City Devils took the stage and for lack of a better way to describe it, rocked the fuck out. It was even more perfect than this dorky superfan could have imagined. Spencer, clad in an argyle sweater, took turns berating and then complimenting the audience, and tried to sing a good majority of the show with the microphone lodged directly in his throat. The whole band went for it the entire time, with the start of each song getting the audience more excited. You really can’t get better than having the entire Music Box crowd screaming the lyrics to “Rum To Whiskey.” By the end of the show, the room reeked of sweat and alcohol…which is exactly what everyone wanted.
The entire night the crowd was a mix of pits and shovefests. In the midst of one of these shovefests, I tried to save my beer and raised it over my head. The tall gentleman next to me tried to slyly sip the beer from the cup, since my eyes were on the band. Although I punched him, I must say I was secretly impressed. Well played sir, well played.
Apparently all the guys with glasses sent a memo to each other to only attend the night 1 show. Oh well. The night started with my roommate jumping out of the car as I attempted to find parking because she saw the band walking to the show. She tried to take pictures but then felt like a stalkarazzi and decided to drink in the car instead. Maybe since the night before was one of the best shows I’ve seen in the last five years, I was a little disappointed when the crowd seemed slightly less excited as the night before. However when the band hit the stage, everyone in the place let the band know how happy they were that the sabbatical was over. The band stumbled on stage with less swagger than the previous night, leading me to believe they were hung-over as hell. They did pretty much same set as the night before. Spencer didn’t even look like he changed clothes. Hung-over and unwashed, they still amazed me. I found myself in the very front pinned between a giant bouncer and a speaker and I didn’t care. Hearing songs like “Bear Away” and “Dancin Shoes” from that raspy yet strangely soothing voice for two nights in a row was more than I could have asked for. After the show, Spencer hung around the front of the stage, taking pictures and signing autographs. I was all set to declare my undying love for the man when I decided In and Out seemed like a more realistic option.
The box set of my dreams was sold out again. Color me annoyed.
Thank you Murder City. Please don’t make me wait years again for the next show. I don’t know if I can bear it.
Photos: Murder City Devils @ Fonda, February 17 2009 by Cassmonster