It was a night of both explicit and implicit Weezer tributes at the Black Cat — starting with Hooray For Earth frontman, and Rivers Cuomo look-a-like, Noel Haroux forcing a melody out from behind guitar snarl and insistent quarter note snares on their fun track “Form.” Haroux has a gift for writing catchy synth rock, which is persistently melodic, upbeat, and often references Weezer in their prime. The band’s solid Momo EP gives a hint at what a promising young band they could be. Live, they look the part of your typical Brooklyn indie band, but instead of dour or whiny, they bring a youthful exuberance with them to the stage. “Comfortable, Comparable” and “Surrounded By Your Friends,” are great cuts, which even caused a few hesitant D.C. hips to bounce. Hooray For Earth ended their brief set with a stage party, bringing out two female backup singers and Kurt Feldman, the drummer for headliners The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, on guitar. This was the last night of their tour together with Pains, and Surfer Blood. It was a promising lineup, and the openers played their set as if they were closing the show.
The evening’s closers, The Pains Of Being Pure At Heart, funnel a handful of influences into a unwavering formula. They are a solid twee band operating in a genre with few real competitors — they’ve already surpassed the likes of My Teenage Stride, for instance — which goes a long way in explaining their rapid rise to indie stardom.
There’s little to alter from Valerie’s appraisal of Pains’ show at Black Cat’s tiny back stage last year. Much of what they played was difficult to distinguish from the rest of their catalog, and the band really don’t live up to the hype they have received. They have the wall-of-sound, shoegaze jangle style in spades; but there is little else in the way of drama or dynamics or inventiveness (see M83). If anything, they seemed a bit more jaded or, at least, less deferential to the audience than they were on their last trip through town.
Surfer Blood was, for me, the most intriguing band on the billing. First of all, they are all about 13 years old. Well, okay, not exactly — but at least two of them aren’t old enough to drink yet, as evidenced by the large black Xs on their hands. There are plenty of young bands out there, but few with the depth of sound and quality that Surfer Blood brings to bear. At one point early in the show, after some minor gaff, someone shouted “that’s what happens when you give high schoolers beer!” With a wry smile, guitarist Thomas Fekete asked the shouter, who turned sheepish, to join the band on stage. They have clearly met a cynical audience member before.
