Tuesday night at the Crocodile, our friend noticed something odd. "Hey, take a look at that midget with a mohawk." Noting the subject's proportionality, Seattlest corrected our friend, telling him we were pretty sure that "midget" was a little kid. Our friend didn't care: "Either way, that little dude is awesome." Oh, but he was.
As we soon found out, the kid's name was Dakota, and he was at the Irving/Essex Green show with his mom. Dressed in tiny green Cons, bondage pants, and a leopard print-collared blazer, he had a majestic, well-coiffed mohawk atop his little head. When the music started, he put in his earplugs like a good boy, and began to rock out. A couple songs later, he was onstage jumping around, playing air guitar (the kid was doing windmills, for the love of God), and giving high fives a-plenty. Later on, he was hanging out at the merch booth, posing for photos, noogieing the doorman, and making conversation with everyone around. Someday, Dakota wants to play guitar, and we're pretty sure he's gonna be huuuuuge, as he's already earned a bunch of fans. "He's the coolest thing we've seen on tour," according to one of guys from Irving.
Oh yeah, that's right, there were professional musicians at the show too. Irving kicked things off nicely, playing mostly from their new release Death in the Garden, Blood on the Flowers. We've been digging this album for a while now. It varies from sunnier Cure-type tracks (especially the swooping synth-heavy "Jen, Nothing Matters to Me"), to songs more reminscent of Television, to straight-up 60s-twinged pop. We were glad to see Irving pile on the vocals, with three of the band members trading off lead singer duties. They played a really satisfying set, closing strongly with the seven-minute epic "The Curious Thing about Leather" off of their 2003 EP.
After the high energy of Irving, headliners Essex Green were kinda a buzzkill. They just played their songs without seeming like they were really into it. The most excitement we got from them came halfway through the set, when they threw in some handclaps. Besides that, the drummer drummed, the chick bassist bassed, keyboardist Sasha Bell sang (and once played the flute), bearded and be-blazered guitarist Chris Ziter also sang, while other guitarist Jeff Baron just closed his eyes and mouth-breathed. Our friend described the members of the band as "ugly," but that's not quite right. They were just overwhelmingly plain. Not ugly, not attractive, just blah. Couldn't pick 'em out of a line-up. The same goes for their music. Though Pitchfork gave their latest album a fairly positive review, it just wasn't that compelling. The last few songs were the best of their set, but by that point, even young Dakota had bailed.
Photos care of Seattlest's favorite B.J., Benjamin Bloom.

Friendly Folk-Pop for the Kids: Hey Marseilles at Vera This Saturday


I have never seen anything approaching the hipster precociousness of this kid and you can't tell me that windmilling stage appearances at six-years-old at the croc are not going to lead to serious personality disorders in the future. This kid will be 45 one day and still trading on "love me I'm cute..with a mohawk!" And it pisses me off when someone under ten is dressed better than me.
I want to like this kid, and yet something about his McCauley Culkin/Pink lovechild appearance freaks me the hell out.
This kid's lucky. When I was his age I was taken to the Kingdome and taught to love the Mariners and they've ruined my life.
i predict that puberty (and middle school) will not be kind to this kid.