Bloc Party
Bowery Ballroom, New York, NY
April 7, 2005


Buzz bands fluctuate in and out of cultural consciousness so quickly these days. Whether the hype engine casts its fickle eye on an act for artistic merit or for branding capability doesn’t seem to matter anymore, because the execs are going to sell records regardless. Somewhere along the line, though, it becomes the responsibility of the band, not the PR firm, to prove its worth. Those that do (The Strokes, The White Stripes, Interpol) carve for themselves a concrete niche in the modern rock canon, and those that don’t (The Vines, Jet, The Libertines) become a punchline for a Michael Ian Black quip.

When current buzz-heavy act Bloc Party took the stage at New York’s Bowery Ballroom recently there was an air of comfort and ease about them. The cattle-car packed, sold-out-in-minutes crowd was brimming with anticipation, and the band seemed not only relaxed, but undoubtedly confident that all would leave the Bowery sated. By all accounts, including the voluminous press the band has generated, Bloc Party could be the biggest band in the world right now (thank you, hype engine), but the band seemed to not care at all, and Kele's admonition to the bloodthirsty rock writers, “Whatever magazine you are from, just have a good time” seemed to bolster the fact that these London boys were not here to conform to a mold, pontificate, or self-aggrandize. They were here to entertain.

And did they ever.

Launching immediately into Silent Alarm’s opener, “Like Eating Glass,” the band assumed their respective roles for the evening: Kele, the instigating, ever-smiling jokester; Gordon, the looming presence of insouciant detachment; Matt, the precision-driven pacesetter; and Russell, the guy who looks, plays, acts like (and, for all intents and purposes, wants to be) Jonny Greenwood.

The band then spontaneously combusted into “Positive Tension,” which sent the crowd into a veritable frenzy, jumping and screaming the chorus of “Why’d you have to get so hysterical?” without a hint of irony.

For the majority of the subsequent songs, Kele approached the microphone to warn the crowd: “This one is a slow jam, well, a bit of a slow jam,” for “This Modern Love,” “This one is a rock tune” for “Helicopter,” and “This one is a dance number,” for “She’s Hearing Voices.” As each song was played, it became blatantly apparent that, whatever the type, it would be played with the same vicious intensity as those that came before it.

Yet the night was not all brooding murk. What made the show (and, incidentally, the band) so enjoyable was their penchant for humor, like breaking into the bass line from Interpol’s “Evil,” or the guitar riff from Radiohead’s, “Talk Show Host.” They even took potshots at hallowed countrymen Coldplay, with Russell playing the “Yellow” chords, and Kele at the mic, in his best, wide-eyed, American English, gibing, “They’re AHHH-some!”

From the haunting opening words of “The Marshalls are Dead,” to the frenetic energy of showstopper “Little Thoughts,” to all the aforementioned intensity and banter, it was night of so many great moments. But what turned those moments into an overall great show was the prominence and unwavering focus not on the hype, not on the buzz, and not even on the detractors, but on the music. And because of that, I can unquestionably say: Bloc Party, your place in the canon is ready.

-- Phil DePaul, 04/21/05