Forward Russia, To Infinity and Beyond
For the record, ¡Forward, Russia! is awesome. Keep this in mind a year from now when they make it (indie) big, because last night at the Croc, it was pretty damn empty. There was Seattlest and, oh, about thirty other people taking in the anxiety-filled English post-punk from a quartet wearing matching upside-down, right-side-up exclamation-points t-shirts.
The drums were sloppy, and the tracks were numbered. In fact, the setlist was as follows: 13, 15 pt 2, 12, 17, 18, 16, 15 pt 1, 7, 9, 11. This make sense when you consider that the band named songs based on the order in which they were written. Our companion was particularly enamored by any song that was a prime number (he has a point, in that "16" is not so great), but our favorites were "13" and "9," the latter of which has a soaring chorus to kill for. Unfortunately for the both of us, they did not play "19," which we enjoy if only because it begins with the overly dramatic words "Ancient, sore oculi...". Ah well, there's always next time.
Lead singer Tom Woodhead (huh huh) was in charge of: 1) the synths, 2) wrapping the mic cord around his neck, 3) sweating till his hair was stringy, and 4) thrashing about, both on stage and throughout the crowd. His vocals held up to what's on their debut album Give Me a Wall, which is surprising when you consider that there's a lot of yellin' contained therein. After the show, Tom was all shirtless and stinky, a state well-earned by his energetic performance, especially since there was such a small crowd. Good people of Seattle, do yourself a favor and do not miss this band the next time 'round. Like whoa.
Listen to an mp3 of "9" remixed here.
Or check out the highly superior original version here.
Photo care of Flickr / user tiefseefisch.
