[FiPS Was There...] Come for the Opener: O'Death

via odeath.net

We here at FIPS spend a hell of a lot of time out and about in Brooklyn, attending outdoor concerts, comedy shows and various other events. So [FIPS Was There...] is where we're gonna' talk about all this shit.

Around these parts, it's worth it to come for the opening act.

Last night I hit the Bell House for Brooklyn's best, by far, punked-out-backwoods-Appalachian-gothic folk band, O'Death. How many punked-out-backwoods-Appalachian folk bands are there in Brooklyn, you may ask? I only know the one for sure, but damn if they don't kick a little ass. Their set was as borderline insane and roiling as ever, despite the softer tone of their latest release, but I came away that night still thinking of the 8pm opener, Lady Lamb the Beekeeper.

Which brings me back to my point -- I've seen a lot of shitty opening acts. But not so much around here, by which I mean the bigger Slope and Brooklyn venues. There's so much musical talent dripping over the borough that you have to watch your step walking past Union Hall, lest you get musical talent all over those nice new, vintage Chucks. So I don't know why so many of us persist in our fashionably late ways to shows. You're seeing a band you presumably like. They chose another act to open because, presumably, they like them. It's like an iTunes Genius recommendation from a human.

Still, I expected the openers to pale in comparison with the mighty, manic O'Death. So it was a surprise to see this lone, tiny, adolescent-looking young woman command the room arguably just as well. First of all, and I'm sure she gets tired of hearing this -- she looks all of about 14, and that's rounding up. She's gotta' be about five feet tall. But I think at least 75% of her body volume is lung -- the girl can shout. She projects these country-blue grass melodies with a rocker's yell that makes you forget all about checking your iPhone for, like, SEVERAL minutes. 

The voice doesn't have a particularly memorable quality -- I wouldn't call it especially pretty, not to say it's ugly by any means. But goddamn it's loud, and it's passionate. I think she might still be figuring out her stage presence a bit -- the final shouts of her last song bordered into child-throwing-hissy-fit territory, which was unintentionally funny (I think unintentionally). But, mostly it worked. You'll wanna' cheer like a dork when she steps about five paces back from the mic and still fills the room with sound.  

The main event, O'Death, per usual, sent bolts of backwoods energy directly into the audience's skulls. It all starts the moment the drummer (and "whooper" according to their facebook page) David Rogers-Berry steps atop his seat and leans with not-so-vague menace toward the audience to thwack down an opening count. Sawing on a skeletal fiddle appropriate to the band's gothic lyrics, Bob Pycior keeps many of the songs nervously energetic. Ahead of the stomping, roiling six-piece, is vocalist Greg Jamie, yelping and warbling crazy country lyrics.

But don't let all that energy fool you -- O'Death has penned a catalogue of haunting melodies, echoing the bluegrass and other roots music that inspired them. Chanted by the whole band, and most of the audience, the chorus to "On an Aching Sea" -- "I've been waitin' so long for my judgement, I've been waiting so long" -- stayed stuck to my brain cells through the next morning. Their newer songs focus more on the song craft, with less punky energy. But their live show, thankfully, still rocks that Appalachian frenzy.

Between O'Death and Lady Lamb, country-roots band The Woes had their own great set, highlighted by singer Osei Essed's pleasant growl of a voice. In a poorer talent pool, they'd have warranted most of the paragraphs here. Worth seeing as a main act, if you get the chance.