Indie Bands Invade Columbia

By Jordan Sargent

Published March 14, 2007

Believe it or not, to some of us, Columbia turning into Poland circa 1939 was not the biggest event of this past weekend. No, some of us had March 10 circled on our calendars for a different reason, and it wasn't so we'd remember to buy poster board. It was because we were invaded by decidedly less-racist groups of men — ones that actually lived up to their expectations. It was the Great Indie Invasion of 2006! It was Cold War Kids. It was Tokyo Police Club. It was Subtle. It was TV on the Radio.

And my head was spinning.

The decision to see TV on the Radio over Cold War Kids was a rather easy one.

Not only did Cold War Kids open for Tapes 'n Tapes in October, but they also kind of sucked. Their updated blues-rock is unoffending enough on record, but I don't usually listen to records while standing in Mojo's with a girl's hair in my face, and I wasn't putting myself through their set just to hear "Hang Me Out up Dry" again.

But I did stand in Mojo's with a girl's hair in my face on Saturday because Ontario, Canada-teens Tokyo Police Club opened for Cold War Kids.

The actual Tokyo Police Club fans were easy to spot. They knew bassist and lead singer Dave Monks asked the crowd to clap before "Citizens of Tomorrow" not because he's a douche, but because it's actually part of the song. And when only seven of us were left still clapping when Monks stepped into the song's third line, it felt like a fan-club meeting.

Despite the overall feeling of "whatever" permeating through Mojo's during Tokyo Police Club's set, the dudes rocked as hard as advertised.

They did things that come natural to bands that are great live because they are, and not because they try to be. On set opener "Cheer It On," keyboardist Graham Wright leaned over his keyboards to scream "operator," not for show but because the mic would've only contained him. When they had nothing better to do, Wright and guitarist Josh Hook wailed on tambourines because there was no way they could stand still.

Newer songs made up about half of the set, and the band didn't rip into its starkly synth heavy compositions as ferociously as it did the EP material. Although the songs displayed the band's growing confidence, it was the familiar songs that ran me ragged. The band toyed with the nuances of its songs with more guitar noodling or longer key holds, so the spectacular parts ended up hitting harder.

It was a predictably sensational set from a band that's going to become growingly harder to ignore.

The fact that they were swathed in blue, red and white light was particularly poignant. Despite their Canadian passports, they're still the most invigorating young band we've got in America.

Tokyo Police Club's set ran to nearly 11 p.m., so TV on the Radio was just starting what would turn out to be an awesome rendition of "Dirtywhirl" as I waltzed into The Blue Note.

As the song began, frontman Tunde Adebimpe whipped water onto the crowd — something I saw him do before on a YouTube video — but he seemed particularly worked up, giving me hope that he fed off of the crowd.

It became quickly apparent that TV on the Radio live is solely Adebimpe's beast. He moved horizontally on the stage, rearing his head back and booming into the mic with his eyes toward the heavens. He was a truly captivating figure, one who seemed to impose the songs on himself as much as the crowd.

Meanwhile, guitarist Kyp Malone patrolled a vast four inches of the stage looking spectacularly stoned. Mastermind Dave Sitek spent the portion of the set I saw spewing gnarly guitar squall with his back to the crowd.

The band didn't play the songs I hoped it would, but the encore alone was enough to satisfy whatever appetite I still had left. Openers Subtle were brought on to turn "A Method" into a banshee percussion attack, but it was "Staring at the Sun" that literally made me smile. Sometime during the first chorus, I looked up to my left and there was a crowd surfer.

TV on the Radio, 1. Complacency, 0.