Nada Surf at 9:30 Club: 10 April 2012

In the midst of a long work week and an upcoming trip out of town, my fiancée and I were pretty beat last Tuesday. And since I had seen Nada Surf live twice before, I wasn't hellbent on going that night. The primary reason for my lack of enthusiasm being their new record, The Stars Are Indifferent To Astronomy, isn't my favorite, and I figured the set list would be new song-heavy. In fact, I gave her the option of punting the whole evening, since she's only familiar with a handful of Nada Surf songs. But she, being the amazingly awesome woman she is, agreed to tough it out for my sake. She's pretty much the best.

It was a cool spring night when we arrived at 9:30, about halfway through the set of the opening act, An Horse. They were okay, and pretty typical for an opener -- poorly mixed, lots of energy, pausing to say "Nada Surf will be out here in a bit, hang tight" between every song. I got the sense that I would be really into them if I were in my college years. They are loud and fast and the lead singer is a chick. (I apologize if "chick" is offensive to you, but being in a rock band is one of the few instances where I still feel it's appropriate.) We heard about three songs, which was just enough for me to polish off a beer and get ready for the main event.

At this point I should mention that when setting up at 9:30, the roadies can take anywhere from 15 to 30 minutes just to get started, and the speed with which they work usually ranges from "that huge tortoise at the National Zoo" to "Jeff Schultz retrieving a puck out of the corner boards." I'm not sure if it's how picky the bands are themselves, or if the venue is holding them up, but usually you're standing there for way too long and your feet are getting tired and inevitably one of three groups of people will plant themselves right in front of you; annoying couple only interested in taking cell phone videos, four to six people about fifteen years too old to be attending the show, or guys tall enough to form their own semi-professional basketball team. Thankfully, the synergy between the Nada Surf road crew and 9:30 was such that everyone got their shit together and they went on stage on time. And not only was the intermission short, I got to hear Pavement's "Spit on a Stranger" during the break. Much obliged.

As expected, they opened with two new songs, in fact the first two tracks off the new album. But I knew it was going to be a good show from the opening notes of "Hyperspace" on. It reminded me that there's something timeless about all of Nada Surf's songs. They're not dated in any way (except for their one MTV hit, "Popular," which is only dated because you remember the goofy video from 1996). What I mean is, "Hyperspace" is off their second album, released in 1998, but it could just as easily fit into any album they've released since. The band hasn't reinvented themselves or their sound. Every three or four years, they produce a exceptional album. Then they tour. Then they take a break. Rinse, repeat. They could do this until I'm old and grey (I hope they tour The Villages!) and I would still be happy with their work.

Back to the show, I feel like they really hit their stride after "Killian's Red." It's such a hypnotic song that it lulls the audience into a comfortable, sultry, sleep-like state. Then they wake us up with one of my favorite new songs, "Jules and Jim." It evokes the scene from any paint-by-numbers rom-com or sitcom when a couple wakes up the morning after a night of good sex, and they both still seem really satisfied, and the flat sheet is draped perfectly over the woman's body as not to expose areolae. Point being, it just feels good. After that, they played a bunch of songs that aren't my favorites -- "Concrete Bed," "80 Windows," and "The Way You Wear Your Head" -- but hearing them live was a treat. They really give every song the entirety of their energy, and it pays off. That night they were joined by Doug Gillard (most notably of Guided by Voices, who were the source of my favorite 9:30 experience, but probably not in the way you think) and Martin Wenk (who plays a mean theremin), and the quintet was phenomenal. My fiancée in particular was quite taken with the drummer, Ira Elliot, who was admittedly captivating. As bassist Daniel Lorca noted, "He's the only guy who can play the drums like Mick Jagger."

They closed their main set with "Hi-Speed Soul" and "See These Bones," two of their best. And they finished with their signature encore, "Inside of Love," "Always Love," and "Blankest Year" which always calls for audience participation (you get to scream "FUCK IT!"). I missed a few of my personal favorites, but I can't complain. It was an awesome, high-energy, musically coherent show. And I really do appreciate my fiancée going with me, and helping me remember that we're not too old for this shit.

One footnote; frontman Matthew Caws had his father (who is apparently famous or something) and stepmother on the private balcony upstairs. At first they didn't seem to be having much fun, but by the middle of the set, they were up and dancing a little bit. Really freaking cute.