Rites of Spring Nashville Scene Review

[LaurieBlue]

http://www.nashvillescene.com/Stories/Arts/Music/The_Spin/2006/04/27/The_Spin/index.shtml

April 27, 2006

.The Spin

Rites of Spin

• Did you hear? This year's Rites of Spring festival at Vanderbilt was going to admit what Vandy kids like to call "Nash Trash"—i.e., regular Nashvillians who don't roam the university's hallowed halls—and that was, like, really gross. Can you believe they were actually going to let these people on campus, let them stand next to the real Vandy students, brushing shoulders with the cream of Southern youth? But the nightmare never really came true; the Nash Trash stayed away and the Vanderbilt youth were left to swig Busch and Miller Lite in peace, taking hits off each other's joints and crushing their cans in the ground only to pull another out of their pockets, their bags, their coolers. So many coolers, so many heads of tousled hair bobbing along—not to the music but to each other, a sort of droopy, drunken sway. Which band was playing? Nobody could tell for sure. Was it Clap Your Hands Say Yeah? No, they played last night, right before that shirtless dude puked in front of you. Remember? It's probably Ben Lee. No, Folds. Ben Folds. You can tell because he has a piano and he's kinda old, like probably 30. Well, whatever it is, it's some great music. And definitely great beer. So have another Miller Lite and watch the guy next to you make out with a girl and text his friends about it at the same time. Awesome.

• We could spend hours pondering the cultural conundrums that arose during our stay on Vandy's Alumni Lawn. How many pairs of Rainbow flip-flops can you fit on one beer-can bespeckled lawn? Who could predict that a homemade confederate flag dress worn with cowboys boots would look tacky? What's so wrong with a girl in pearls and seersucker culottes waving her "guns in the air," giving big ups to 2pac and Biggie in response to urging from Bone Thugs-n-Harmony? But we'd rather talk about My Morning Jacket—because they fucking rocked. By the time MMJ closed out Friday night's bill, the thunderstorms had passed, allowing the band (and the crowd) to stay dry. Their vibrant, psychedelic sound, jammy but not annoying, was a perfect fit for the big space, the spring breeze and our cold beer. The Louisville quintet's music is ambitious, virtuosic and grand, but it succeeds because of the joy and humility they radiate in performance—we would have considered ourselves lucky if we'd been having half as much fun as they were. The Spin also gives props to San Francisco's Hot Buttered Rum, who made it all the way from the left coast in a van powered by vegetable oil for their Saturday afternoon performance under the sun. A belated happy Earth Day to all!

[dragonboy]

"But we'd rather talk about My Morning Jacket—because they fucking rocked."  ;D