Apr 4, 2013

Astronautalis… another white rapper from Florida comes to Columbus.

Words by Kyle McMullen:

Last night I left my house under the assumption that I was joining Mike to see a couple bands, drink a few beers and write  a handful of words. Obviously extensive research was conducted regarding these bands…

dazed-and-confused

as Dream Tiger kicked things off only a mere 90 minutes past their promoted set time.

Alone stands a woman with a smooth voice unique to herself.  A minimalist show of lights fill the empty space as movement is limited to the waving of hands and snapping of fingers reminiscent of a poetic open mic night at a pretentious coffee shop. Not sure if fronting a full band, orchestrating minimalist electro-pop or even partnering with a bass heavy DJ  would compliment the vocal prowess, but as is leaves little to be desired.

Dream Tiger, Astronautalis, WHY? - Ace of Cups 2/18/2013

Next  was Astronautalis (Charles Andrew Bothwell) and before a single note was played the audience was informed we would be “screamed at for the next 45 minutes.”  Mmmm Kay? I figured he was kidding since the first performance was soft enough to soundtrack paint drying.

Dream Tiger, Astronautalis, WHY? - Ace of Cups 2/18/2013

As soon as the band started  a controlled scream, not of the death metal, skull shattering blurb of noise variety, but one that clearly took dedication and skill to perfect.  The first song was solid enough that if the remainder were similar, I would have been perfectly content. Which couldn’t be said for the microphone stand that was immediately tossed off stage with authority.

A few more songs and a lot more screams before the music suddenly stops. At this point our triumphant lead turns to the audience a requests topics for his freestyle rapping. Some of the more noteworthy highlights were as follows:

  • Crab liberation movement

  • Glass eye

  • Rotary phone

  • Velvet curtains

  • Wilfurd Brimley

 

Dream Tiger, Astronautalis, WHY? - Ace of Cups 2/18/2013

Bothwell’s self described “historical fiction hip-hop” had the crowd eating out of his hand  and roaring after each song. Yet I stood in amazement as if it was all happening to someone else in a slow motion horror movie scene. Luckily our photographer Mike snapped me out of it just in time to shake his hand before he exited stage left.

 

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