The Federal Reserve Collective Takes a Bow @ Iota
The Federal Reserve Collective, which assembled for the last time at Iota on Monday night, hasn't so much disbanded as resigned themselves to its constitutional crisis -- one that most bands would love to have. Simply put, its members are too popular for the once-monthly collab sessions that the FRC has hosted at Iota for the last couple years. "A lot of us have started drifting off in different directions," says Federal founding father Jesse Elliott of These United States over email. What he means to say is that they're all out on tour.
The Federal Reserve Collective -- and to be sure, that's a glossy name for a sit-in night, a semi-practiced bullshit session for local peers and sympathetic out-of-towners -- began the way these things always do. A jam in someone's living room, another and another over a long few months, an off-night at a small venue, a regular weeknight at a local club. That's how scenes are built.
The last episode did not offer anything much grander than any show in the series has: some musicians playing solo, some musicians playing in small groups. Though local stalwarts These United States -- who, along with Vandaveer, represent the most popular act closely associated with the federation -- headlined the evening, they played just three songs, in keeping with the spirit of the program. To the detriment of the evening, the worst acts played damn-near full sets, while the nights's gem played just two songs.
What is the Federal Reserve Collective scene, anyhow? Featuring appearances by Brandon Butler, Revival, Shortstack, Laura Burhenn, and other local stars over the years, this confederacy marks an important evolution in the District's music scene that doesn't feel like evolution at all. There's no line to be drawn from the angular, splintered rock of Dischord to the jangly folk acts on Gypsy Eyes -- yet there it is. One could imagine a District sampler today that excluded Mary Timony because she doesn't quite fit the current sound -- but how fucked up is that?
All is not lost. One relative newcomer to this folkier scene, Matthew Hemerlein, gives hope that D.C. rock hasn't lost touch with its roots. His songs weren't exactly edgy: He opened with a three-part medley that started on the theme to Jurassic Park, transitioned into a slightly bawdy version of "Kiss the Girl" from The Little Mermaid, and ended with his faithful cover of "Walkin' (After Midnight)." For fans of Final Fantasy -- the one-man violinist band comprising Owen Pallett, better known for playing violin in Arcade Fire -- neither Hemerlein's use of the loop pedal to back himself up or his soft vocals will be novel.
But his original number (and only other song for the evening), "Every Night," featured something no other act from the FRC managed. It was punk, with dissonant guitar scratches looped as percussion, and it was sexy, with vocals a la Prince and just enough guitar prodding to get you there. Should the Federal Reserve Collective re-assemble at a later date, his performance was the hint of progress to come.