Live: Kings of Leon, swine flu and complaining people in Cary
SWINE BOTTLES RUN AAARRGH!!!!?!?!?!?
Kings of Leon, The Walkmen
Koka Booth Amphitheatre, Cary
Tuesday, April 28
There’s been a bit of controversy about last night’s Kings of Leon show at Cary’s luxuriously wooded Koka Booth Amphitheatre: The Followill brothers decided to ban beach blankets, lawn chairs, beer bottles and water bottles at the show so that, one assumes, people wouldn’t pelt the band if they were done with their beverage (I did see some cups headed in the band’s direction, though, which I’ve never seen. And I saw some folks walking around in surgical masks to prevent exposure to swine flu, they said. So, yeah, you rock dudes are crazy.) On one hand, it’s a rock show by a band that takes cues from Creedence and Van Morrison and, on record, amps it up with a little new Southern swagger, for better and for worse. So, like, why the fuck would you sit down for that if you’re going to pay $45 to see the band. If you’d tried to sit last night, you actually wouldn’t have been able to see them, anyway. Remember the whole rock show bit?
I’m also wondering, though, if the Followills banned lawn chairs for fear that people might have fallen asleep last night: Their set—which actually didn’t leave many bored—felt more like a cross between a sermon and a confessional than an ordinary rock show. Usually, deserving bands go into their Grammy-award winning songs with a climactic arrogance that behooves songs that won such awards. Not these guys, though. Kings of Leon didn’t hit the stage like they were headlining after The Walkmen’s rather feathery performance. They showed up, instead, like they were on time for a drudge rehearsal. “Sex on Fire” came in like a basic karaoke tune, but only with a family full of country-boy casanovas to give it some humble, backwoods stiffness. For “Milk” and the encore favorite “Knocked Up,” drummer Nathan Followill gingered his way through things as if he was trying to avoid breaking a sweat, content instead to watch his brother, Caleb, control the world.
But even Caleb didn’t play or approach the microphone as if he was being waited upon by thousands of people. He was cool and collected, performing as if he was scrimmaging, or rather vocally packing luggage for a pink, oily doomsday. The guy yells, preaches and cries as if it’s for fun. Thing is, it’s so much fun that it eventually takes us to a place where we want to be but he doesn’t, where his past and faltering alter-ego—“the Rooster,” as he told Rolling Stone—resides. To Caleb, that’s a dark, whiskey-and-LSD-filled dungeon that he doesn’t like to revisit. Inevitably, “the Rooster” ends up peaking its head into each Kings song via his wandering, troubled warble.
Strong music is supposed to be either heart-breaking or heart-warming, and the Followill brothers master both reactions with about every song—playing them as if they’ve been enlisted to play the score to any soppy romance flick ever made. Strong reactions… Maybe that’s why they were worried about flying beer bottles and burning blankets. Oh, and freaks worried about swine flu and the comfort of their asses at a pretty decent if relaxed rock concert.
4 Comments
I thought it was a phenomenal show. Overpriced. But oh well.
— Revolu 30 April 2009
They’re supposedly a Nashville band, yet they NEVER played live here until after they had a major label record. I don’t think they ever played anywhere beforehand, they were put together to be what they are, no dues were ever paid.
They’re nothing more than a record label creation.
Ever notice EVERY one of their songs was co-written by Angelo Petraglia? He’s a professional Nahville based songwriter, who’s also written for Tim McGraw, Toby Keith, and a number of other country artists.
They’re as fake as fake can get. No soul, no talent, and no originality.
— B 2 May 2009
I thought the show was great. I think they definitely have a little country to them and they have often mentioned that Angelo was a miracle to them. I don’t think they’re fake at all, and they definitely have soul, talent, and originality.
— Brittany 6 May 2009
I agree with Brittany, B. Angelo Petraglia’s contibution doesn’t sell KOL to it’s true followers–Caleb’s chalky voice does. They can be as contrived or as much as a “creation” as you perceive them to be, but Caleb’s voice is much more powerful than Tim’s or Toby’s. And as far as “soul” goes, vocally, I’d put Caleb up against any of the other white, appropriating neo-so(u)lsticers like Mayer Hawthorne, Daniel Merriweather, Colin Munroe, or even Robin Thicke, and i think he’d fair pretty well.
— Eric Tullis 10 May 2009