Tapes just don't sound the same live
CAMBRIDGE -- Hype can be a funny thing. It can raise a rock band to unearthly heights, where the rarified air of stardom is pure and thin, but it can also trigger a backlash that stings in a ruthless, poisonous instant, bringing a band crashing back to earth. The hype-before-hearing scenario also offers a revealing measure of just how good a group is in the face of all the buzz.
The members of the indie-rock foursome Tapes 'N Tapes aren't exactly stars yet, but if a new label deal, national headlining tour, and near sold-out house downstairs at the Middle East Monday night are any indication, they're well on their way. As the plaudits pour in and the oxygen gets thinner for a Minneapolis-based group embarking on its first marquee jaunt across America, this is where the hype becomes a gauge.
There seem to be two Tapes 'N Tapes at this moment. There's the band that self-produced ``The Loon" (to be re-released next month by the Beggars Banquet subsidiary, XL Records), a precocious full-length debut that's an altogether beguiling and charming collection of tousled, scattershot pop. And there's the perfectly competent, good but not great Tapes 'N Tapes that on Monday delivered a solid, if unremarkable, live representation of their far more remarkable recorded work.
The 45-minute set started promisingly enough with the electric surge of ``Just Drums." Singer-guitarist Josh Grier's yelp rode atop an elastic bass line and, suitably, a battalion of crackling snare fills. Grier's ``Harvard Square" shout-out on the roughed-up bash and pop of ``Insistor" was a crowd highlight, as was the Spoon-meets-Vue vamp of ``10 Gallon Ascots." But ultimately, the quirks, hooks, and personality of tunes like ``Omaha" and ``Icedbergs" (the latter from the group's earlier EP), didn't translate as anything special. Frequently, isolated moments within a song -- a tweak of a chord here, an aural flourish between a verse there -- proved more compelling than the sum of the songs .
What Tapes 'N Tapes seems to be, at this early juncture, is less a revelatory indie-rock outfit than a fledgling musical collective that got its start not in packed clubs but private kitchens. Now if it can just transfer those ideas, and the marvelous sounds of those tapes, to a live setting, it just might match the hype. 