Monday, June 1, 2009

Archives: Closing Iris Live Review (Binge)

By Derek Ennison*

Somebody’s been following me for at least 3 blocks now. Heavy breathing. I’m looking over my shoulder. Blood pressure rising. It could be mall security, the cops or worse. Sweaty palms. I duck into some dive club and head for the bathroom. I think I’m in the clear now. Those fuckers. I slink into the corner booth as the band takes the stage. If anyone asks, I’ve been here the whole time.

The stage banner reads Closing Iris. I guess that’s the name of the group. I have no idea who they are or what they sound like. Suddenly, the air fills with an eerie groaning, like a tube amp warming up, or a growling Obsidian Dragon. Yeah, it’s an amp.

“Is this seat taken?” Before I could answer, a rather stout gentleman sits down next to me. Shit, I’ve been made.

“You here to see the band?” I shrug. The man proceeds to tell me everything I need to know about this band, plus a good portion of his life story. Normally I hate conversation, but his chatter drowns out the jackhammer in my chest, and, there’s a good chance I could use this guy as an alibi if anything goes down later. Keep talkin’ buddy.

Turns out the band is in fact called Closing Iris, and they’re out on a tour of Western Canada promoting their newly-released EP Another Reason (to lie to yourself). They have 2 types of shows: BINGE & PURGE. That translates to loud & quiet, or so I’m told. Tonight it’s a full-on BINGE, with amplified guitars & plenty of distortion. Front man Shaun Funk greets the crowd rather deadpan, launching right into the raw, gritty straight-ahead rock. It’s all business from the top.

The crowd seems a bit apprehensive at first. On a Monday night, it’s likely most people are either burned out from the weekend or like me, have other shit on the mind. The songs are full of slick, animalistic energy, begging comparisons to STP or early Tea Party. Not exactly a fresh sound, but it makes me think of the good ol’ days when grit still mattered. This is a heaver-rock trio, with plenty of twists, hungry harmonies, and grungy guitar riffs in tow. Intelligent, angsty lyrics lure listeners, like “Pointing the finger, but it’s pointing back at me.” Tasty.

The band keeps grinding through the material, tossing in jokes about the size & demeanor of the crowd. “Come on up front. Both of you.” I look around the room, seeing several sets of pupils glaring back at me. Could they be watching me? Maybe it’s just a coincidence: a simultaneous scan. Ms Passive-Aggressive Waitress hands me a double, and the band shoots into their best song yet. “Hey” starts off with some hearty picking from Mr Funk, before launching into a full-force, yet listenable rocker akin to Lifehouse’s “Hanging By A Moment”.

As much as I hate it, I’m guilty of people-watching. The guys in this band are pretty interesting to watch. They seem to feed off each other. It’s a single unit, like The Borg, this strange organism called a Rock Band toiling away, whether you like it or not. They’re tight, on-point, on display, but rather mysterious. Out back on the kit, Don Mutter throws heat, but still floats a surprisingly melodic harmony. Bassist Aaron Archibald looks like he belongs on a Triumph Motorcycle, his 5-string bass slung over his shoulder like a shotgun. When someone yelled “Freebird!” I think he actually considered it for a minute.

In a final jolt of energy, Shawn invites a little lady named Chrystal Leigh onstage to sing a song with the band. Little frame maybe, but this girl is a presence. I recognize her right away as the voice of local industrial-rockers Jakalope. My brother Mike owns their albums. The band launches into “Vertebrae”, which goes down like a Red Bull & Vodka. The crowd comes alive, and the band sounds its best all night. It feels like someone just threw a cluster bomb into the place, shaking everybody outta their skin.

The back and forth between front man and front woman brings the temperature up to 300 degrees. Another double rye and I’m starting to get lost in the music. Chrystal Leigh’s breathy, hot vocals take over and suddenly I forget why I’m hiding and who it is I’m running from. Closing Iris clearly saves the best for last. As the final dragon’s growl fades into the wood paneling, my paranoia re-emerges. I pound back another drink and evaluate the situation. I want to buy a CD for Mike, but it’s so dark in here, I can’t find the merch booth. With no other recourse, I avoid the pleasantries and head for the door.

Down the alley, a left, then a right, now I’m standing on the corner of a busy Granville intersection. As I step into the street, a van whizzes by, mere inches from my face. “Watch It Buddy!” I point at the driver, catching my blurred reflection in his tinted window. “Pointing the finger, but it’s pointing back at me.” There. One line from a song just defined my night. Nobody’s chasing me, it’s all in my head!

As I struggle to remember the name of the band, out of habit I look over my shoulder. What if I’m wrong. What if they’re following me again. Heart Pounding. In a panic, I start to run. Pulse Rising. Back to where I started.

-Closing Iris.




*Note to the reader: Derek Ennison is a pseudonym, a character I created to give this article a twist. I know it's cheating, combining fiction and fantasy, but I assure you the live review portion is true to fact. I'd love to hear your feedback on this new style of writing I'm test-driving. Thank you.

All the best,

Nathan S

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

This is a great article.

The way it's written makes it a story more than a review.. draws the reader in. Love it.