To call They Might Be Giants’ fans “nerds” is a little too vague. The Brooklyn five piece led by John Linnell (on vocals, keyboards and accordion) and John Flansburgh (on vocals and guitar) attracts a very specific kind of nerd.
These are the people who made Internet friends in other cities and countries in the days before Facebook. These are the people who passed their Astronomy labs in undergrad because they had “Why Does the Sun Shine? (The Sun is a Mass of Incandescent Gas)” memorized. These are the people that have indoctrinated their children into the world of TMBG. Indeed, many people in the crowd brought their teenage or adult children. In other words, They Might Be Giants fandom is just as much of a lifestyle choice as say, Insane Clown Posse or Grateful Dead fandom—albeit a FAR more endearing one.
They Might Be Giants truly know how to perform for “their” people. Their lyricism is intelligently absurd and they bring that witty silliness into every part of their live show. At two separate points in their two set show, John Flansburgh “called” the stage as the character “Mama They Might Be Giants” to crack jokes about the Supreme Court and catch up with her “sons” in the band.
During their second of two sets, they made use of the cameras that they’d hooked up around the stage to project a lo-fi video stream of themselves behind them. Because why just see the band when you can also see a video showing a close-up of the top of their drummer’s head? Stunts like this allowed the show to appeal to the casual listener as well as to the die hard fans in the crowd.
Truth be told, they culled so much of the set from their extremely new release, Glean, that almost nobody in the crowd was bound to spend the entire show singing every word to every song. Learning the words to lyrically dense songs like “I Palindrome I” requires a lot of listening before those intense sing-a-longs can occur, so it was a good thing that those new songs were both musically catchy and lyrically rewarding.
Songs like the bouncy “Let Me Tell You About My Operation” and the slower but still melodic “Answer” treated the crowd to songs about memory removal procedures and unlikely romances that showcased the band at their sharpest. Songs like “Dr. Worm,” “Birdhouse in Your Soul,” and “Istanbul (Not Constantinople)” were still welcome sing-a-longs, but the show never seemed to slow down when the material veered into the unfamiliar.
On the surface, a band with songs about robots, worms, and grocery bags helmed by two guys with extraordinarily nasal voices and all of the kick ass rock star moves of your nerdy history professor sounds like it should be the worst Friday night of all time. But the Johns are self-aware and in addition to never talking down to the audience, they also appreciate them. “This job is awesome,” said Flansbaugh at one point during the second set, after mentioning that he’s heard other bands complain about playing live shows. “No bitterness here, but those other bands are stupid and wrong.” Those other bands probably also don’t sell out the 9:30 Club every time they come through. They Might Be Giants owns all of their quirks with such joy that the fans can’t help but follow.
