The Long Winters, What Made Milwaukee Famous, Menomena and The Value of a Dollar

The problem with a three dollar beer is just that: it’s a three dollar beer. At nearly half the normal price of a beer in Chicago, expectations were low. However Subterranean delivered with high quality, even award-winning Sam Adams — in plastic cups. Surprising? Most certainly. Unheard? Hardly. Regardless, attendees were grateful.

With beers in hand and a local opening band playing on the tiny stage, the crowd seemed small and disinterested. A few dozen people milled around the mostly open main floor hugging the walls and corners while upstairs the chaise-lounges appeared to be the main attraction. Could the O.C. Soundtrack starring The Long Winters, really draw this poorly? Through a three dollar beer, a trip to both the basement and 3rd floor bathrooms, and another three dollars, Subterranean began to fill.

An overly pop melodic opening performance by What Made Milwaukee Famous consisted primarily of new material from their Barsuk debut album, Trying to Never Catch Up. A nearly flawless performance by band vocally, musically, technically, rhythmically, and sonically pleasing, felt somewhat contrived and produced: the drum and guitar breaks were too crisp; the vocals too albumesque; and the harmonies too, well, just too on pitch. In such a dingy and bearded venue, perfection had no place.

Another three dollars coated the interlude between bands. With snyths and a xylophone on the left, baritone and alto saxophones in the middle, and drums on the right, recently signed Menomena’s setup properly indicated their stylings. A guitar and bass were carried on by the band and the set began. At first listen, Menomena appears to have no discernible influences. Nearly impossible hiphop beats begin many songs punctuated by high register dissonant piano melodies. Fuzz bass guitar provides a floor to the sound while a sax bleated off beat.‚  Vocals, performed by all three members, barely disturbing the malaise, floated effortlessly over the difficult rhythms. Occasional Creep-like guitar riffs chugged through and dug into already disorganized and maligned songs. Honestly, Bach must be rolling over in his grave. Each instrument, barely considered music on its own, blended beautifully and seamlessly into the wave of sound created. The standout song of the set, “Strongest Man In The World,” began with a repeated organ line that hearkened to a melodic car alarm. Added to this were crash symbol heavy drum beat and choppy, yet droning bass line — building into a crescendo before abruptly stopping to hear a simple, yet again off-rhythm high piano melody, the few words began “I am/fused out of iron/iron/I am.” The rest of the song combined these four or five themes in a myriad of different combinations and provided the high point of the evening.

Following a band that pushed the very definition of music, The Long Winters didn’t stand a chance. Their stellar indie pop rock, which most of the crowd was there to see, felt displaced and sweaky after Menomena’s set. Though singalongs of frontman John Roderick’s songs prevailed, the balance of the show was lost. A mostly upbeat and rockier setlist was marred by sound problems in the monitors, the plastic cups of the show. Many times Roderick stopped mid verse and glared at the sound booth less than 20 feet from the stage. Putting the Days to Bed, their new album, and When I Pretend to Fall were displayed prominently during the set while the the acoustic album The Worst You Can Do Is Harm was devastatingly ignored. Closing predictably with Ultimatum, one of Roderick’s most honest songs — “I wish we would make it/and I wish that I could take it/when you turn on me”

For a total of twelve dollars at the door, or three dollars a band (and a beer), the shows value was beyond comprehension. Any show at another venue, even the indie-claimed Metro, would run at $20 plus for admission. On the blue line train home that morning at 2:30, wallet only slightly lighter, Menomena CD in tow, the night was declared a success. Cheap? You bet. Worth every dollar? Probably even a few more.