Camera Phone Show Review #1: The Rentals

The Rentals at Bellyup Tavern
7/2/06


The Rentals

This was the worst show I've ever seen by one of the best bands ever. Only the acts that you truly love with all your being can really disappoint you the way the Rentals did for me that night.

As Vivian and I were driving down the 5 South, we were almost giddy with excitement for the show. Mind you, neither of us had ever seen them live before, and we both fondly thought of them, perhaps misguidedly, as the band that recorded Return of the Rentals. We had a few songs from that record on my iPod which we listened to with whimsical reminiscence. Vivian had loaded an extra track from their later album, Seven More Minutes which had different members and a totally different vibe. The collective scrunching of noses as the song came on should have been a forshadowing of what the evening had in store.

But seriously, how could we have known? The problem I have with Seven More Minutes is purely a matter of taste. They still sound like a professional band on that record, I just don't like the direction they went in. I mean first of all, Pat didn't play on it. His drum style is the secret ingredient of any band he plays in. Totally underrated. Secondly, the way Matt Sharp sang on Seven More Minutes had completely changed. He was super happy (they recorded in Spain?) and his mumbly, sad, mopey vocals from the first record were completely missing.

The point is, I didn't like what they were doing, but they still sounded like a professional band. When I refer to a band as professional, it has nothing to do with how many records they sell, what label they're on, or how much money they make. What I'm referring to is a certain focus a band has from the way the instruments sound to the way the musicians approach the presentation and performance of their act. I'm talking about that certain elusive bit of magic that changes an act from a bunch of people playing music together to one unified entity. Its easier to make a band sound professional on a record than live. When a band plays live, its harder to hide the mistakes. If they don't have their shit together, you can tell a lot easier than if you listen to a record (especially the big budget ones).

When Vivian and I arrived at the club, we both glanced at eachother worriedly. "The Bellyup Tavern?" The place looked like something out of a bad college movie. I half expected Rodney Dangerfield to come strolling out the front door with a woman under each arm.

Inside, it was bar rock central, complete with white baseball hats, muscular dudes, and ladies in miniskirts. The first band (Ozma) was playing, and I had to take a moment to let it all sink in. Ozma was definite bar rock. The music was boring drivel, but at least they sounded professional. Expensive equipment, lots of practice, and a good sound system can acheive this, even if you can't write a song to save your life.

At this point, I still managed to keep an open mind that one of my favorite bands of yesteryear would soon take the stage and blow me away. Sadly, this was not to be.

Vivian and I couldn't believe our luck when we found a table relatively close to the stage. We sat down, drinks in hand, and waited with baited breath. Two members of The Rentals came out first, opening the set with a string and keyboard arrangement that succeeded in doing its job of building anticipation (one of the marks of a professional band), and one by one the rest of the members joined in to a rising furvor in the crowd until the inevitbale climax: Matt Sharp emerged from behind the curtains! There was a burst of cheering, and I looked on, wide-eyed, excited, and ready to be bathed in the white hot rays of genius.

I suppose the moment I began to realize something wasn't quite right was during a revamped version of "Move On" when Matt began to sing in a completely different key than the music that was accompanying him. I could've taken or left the remix, that wasn't the problem.

Matt Sharp has never had the greatest singing voice. Honestly, that never made much difference to me because the delivery (on Return of The Rentals) was sincere, and the vocals were never the center of what made the Rentals great anyway. As the song began to build momentum, he began acting a little crazy. Perhaps "little" is a bit of an understatement. Maybe "stark raving mad" would be more appropriate. I'm not sure if he was nervous, trying frantically to distract the audience from his horrible vocal mistake, or if he was coked up on some kind of drugs. Vivian seems to hold with the latter, and after the song was over, I began to agree with her. He was maniacal, yelling like a monkey in high pitched squeels, jumping around with flailing arms, and overall frightening me very, very much.

Let me try to exlain a little bit about why this seemed so out of character from the Matt Sharp I thought I knew and loved. First of all, just look at the cover of thier first album.

This is the face of a mellow guy. A man who sings about simple things like moving away and hoping to make new friends. He's kind of awkward and quiet. Maybe even a little sad. This is not the kind of guy whose stage presence is like a hardcore singer, pumping his fist, and handing the mic off to fans who are screaming choruses. Matt, I don't know if you noticed, but there was no mosh pit. There was no stage diving. The only flying body occurred when you picked Rachel Haden up off the stage while she was playing bass, both of you landing with a thud.

In a perfect world, Matt Sharp would have been playing bass as well as singing, wearing a suit and tie that was a little too big for him, and delivering a deadpan performance that would sweep the audience away on dilectible moog laden harmonies. Alas, this is not a perfect world, and the Rentals we got was not the Rentals of 1995. It had its feet planted firmly in 2006. The legend has been made mundane. The godlike made human. But you know, that first record was so good, I still bought a t-shirt.