Going back to those Gold Soundz
The Besties are good for kissing, gossiping in the girls’ locker room, and making an entire bar smile on a Friday night
By Caralyn Green
Published: September 4th, 2007 | 10:01pm
August 31, in Philadelphia – The show’s organizer opened the night by announcing “Welcome back to those gold sounds,” which made sense because the three band line-up at the cozy, red-walled Tritone was promoted as “Gold Soundz,” most certainly in reference to the Pavement song, and throwing back to something that sounds like high school, or at least those parts of high school that didn’t involve eating lunch alone in the lavatory. Definitely in reference to those parts that involved spinning pastel pink vinyl, crushing hard on college boys, and singing lead in a band your meathead cousin would call “estrogen music,” if he knew how to pronounce estrogen, that is.
I was drawn to Friday night’s Gold Soundz because of the Besties, this Brooklyn-via-Florida twee-pop quartet I dare you to hate. This dare will be especially tricky for fans of the All Girl Summer Fun Band, the Icicles and the Eames Era. Some mp3 blog posted the Besties song “Rod ‘n’ Reel" a few months back, and it’s certifiably impossible to resist a song that references stingrays, the playground, cookies and boys who are too daft to realize that the Besties’ Marisa Bergquist and Kelly Waldrop are good for kissing. “Rod ‘n’ Reel” just scratches the Besties surface, though. Their whole album, Singer, is a candy coated treat, with dueling keyboards, boppable melodies and girl-on-girl harmonies punctuated with guitarist Rikky Walsh’s greaser croon. Singer was recorded with a drum machine, but the Besties line-up now includes real, live percussion, courtesy of a drummer named Frank, of whom I approve based on his Voxtrot tee at the Tritone show.
Would it be lame to say that the Besties’ clothes were strangely reassuring? Maybe. But in their capri pants, well tailored tops and cute but comfy sandals, the Besties gals looked as approachable as they sounded. Nothing feels artificial about the Besties; nothing feels forced. Watching them perform is like watching your friends mess around in your rec room; easy, fun and a little intimidating, ‘cause you realize that they’re not going to be playing your rec room forever. They’re far too good for that.
Another band too good for your parents’ basement (not to, y’know, diss your folks) is the Classic Brown, a Jersey-based indie-pop group that revolves around Stacy Brown, a Canadian chanteuse whose husky, honeyed vocals would fit right in with Feist, Stars and Broken Social Scene. If the Besties sound like sophomore year – finding your independence and a best friend with whom to giggle constantly – then the Classic Brown, who closed the night, sound like senior year – polished, confident and just on the innocent side of sensuality.
I did say it was a three-band night, did I not? Well, the less said about the first band, Philly’s the Lopez, the better. If your lead singer cannot sing and your lyrics suck and you’re a punk band, it’s a rule that a) you should have some political message, and b) you should have a real drummer, ‘cause your drum machine makes you sound like three-year-olds doing punk rock karaoke. Let’s just call the Lopez a freshman year mistake.
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Photo by Caralyn Green
Issue #23
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