“Thanks for coming out to see us tonight – we’re Idlewild.” Singer Roddy Woomble was thanking the thinning crowd at the Bluebird Theater late Tuesday night. There were more people in the room for the show’s opener, local boys Born in the Flood, than for Woomble’s Idlewild, which was a long way from their Edinburgh, Scotland, home. “We’ll be back, maybe someday. Hopefully we’ll play somewhere smaller.”
With that, everyone exhaled and laughed, and Idlewild launched into a calculated, solemn “In Remote, Pt. 1/Scottish Fiction.”
In an awkwardly poetic set, Woomble and his four ‘mates, whose specialty is lush, thoughtful Brit pop, went through the motions. It was obvious his heart was never in the sprawling set – at one point he even mocked his countrymen Franz Ferdinand, who played to a sparse Fillmore crowd that same night – but Idlewild proved that it’s still the lovelier outing, even on an off night.
Woomble paced the stage, singing tracks like “American English,” “Live in a Hiding Place” and the new “Not Just Sometimes But Always” more to his shoes than to the audience. And while his body language was slumped-disappointed, his voice – rich and fueled with knowing, sympathetic character – salvaged everything. It makes you wonder how this band sounds on a good night.
– Ricardo Baca
Lyrics Born/Sharon Jones & the Dap-Kings
These two shows Saturday night had little to do with each other save for the neighboring venues. But just after midnight, when music fans stood back and considered that stellar hip-hop overtook one side of Jay Bianchi’s building in Five Points while raw funk rocked the other side, it seemed like a night for the record books in terms of downtown Denver hosting progressive black music.
At Cervantes’, indie hip-hoppers relished the deep-voiced, Japanese-born lyricist Lyrics Born. He teamed with a five-piece band to showcase his fine underground rap album, “Same !@#$ Different Day.” Although LB and his enchanting sidekick, Joyo Velarde, needed a few tracks to warm up, by the end of the night the rapper’s stylized staccato made this feel more like a house party than a concert.
Still, there was a reason LB’s opener, Pigeon John, sneaked off to Quixote’s. There, Jones and her skinny-tie funk band shook the floorboards. The self-proclaimed “Queen of Funk” unleashed Janis Joplin-meets-Al Green pipes. The politicized gospel-style track “What If We All Stopped Paying Taxes” bowled over this room, where several people pined to join Jones on stage. “I got a job to do,” she said. “I gotta spread my funk!” And that she did.
– Elana Ashanti Jefferson
Architechture in Helsinki
Beauty and passion fuel this Australian octet. They rock and blow, dance and horse around, pluck and tap. They’re silly and fun. But they’re not quite as as good as their admirable buzz would lead you to believe.
The band owned a packed Hi-Dive on Tuesday, but its angular, minimalistic, arty indie-
pop didn’t really slake the thirst that had built up. It was interesting – in the same way your friend’s not-all-there art project is interesting – but the raw energy and blood-
pumping passion of the eight people on the tiny stage wasn’t contagious enough to elevate the music, which was surprising since the band’s new “In Case We Die” is a challenging and strong listen.
– Ricardo Baca
