Young, cute and full of melody, Ra Ra Riot displayed its jumpy energy at the Hi-Dive on Tuesday. Photos by .
I think is a dumb name for a band. There. I said it.
But I am a dumb music journalist, and will admit that sometimes a band’s name is what keeps me from giving their music a chance. Walter Meego has, up until Tuesday night, been a causality of this completely unfounded discrimination.
After much prodding from friends, I got off of work early enough to reach the in time for Meego, who were opening for syrupy Syracuse, N.Y., darlings . The stage was bursting with equipment, three band members paneled along the front, toes to the monitors. With tiny amps stacked on one another and synths to the ceiling, Meego began with “Wanna Be a Star.”
Meego mastermind Justin Sconza’s silky guitar sounds floated like slow-motion Dick Dale riffs over synthetic beats, as other core member Colin Yarck frantically ran back and forth between synthesizers and various other electronic instrumentation.
“Forever” left me feeling patronized by Sconza’s vocals as they clung awkwardly to boom-claps and airy keyboard tones like a sex-less version of Chromeo. Guitarist Andrew Bernhardt timidly held tight to his guitar as he ballerina tiptoed at the edge of the stage, loosening and coming to life as the set stretched set on.
Sconza continued to serenade the sweltering and packed house like a mash-up Rick Springfield dripping with insincerity, banging out “Through a Keyhole,” the dudes in Meego mixing their soft and cagey ’80s R&B tendencies with deep and thumping house music cuts. Walter Meego’s performance was worth the hype, but I found the close to hour-long set for an opening band to be just too much.
Once Meego’s gear was hauled off, Ra Ra Riot appeared and quickly began their sunny set with “Manner to Act.” The tiny stage was now spilling with six hyperactive bodies, cellist Alexandra Lawn and violinist Rebecca Zeller at either side, four boys sandwiched in a cute bobbing jumble.
Wesley Miles snuggled up to the microphone as he cooed “baby, baby” throughout “Can You Tell,” the girls swaying about with their strings, wide grins shining out at the audience. For “St. Peter’s Day Festival,” Zeller traded her violin for a tambourine and hopped around smiling, the band playing and moving in a fluxing oval shape.
Bassist Mathieu Santos and guitarist Milo Bonacci sat out for the somber “Winter 05,” Miles’ soothing voice drifting over the elegant cello and violin melodies. Miles then chatted pleasantly with the audience while the rest of the band stood ready for the next song, “Ghost Under Rocks” from their August release, “The Rhumb Line.”
I like Ra Ra Riot for their consistency and cheerfulness, but I their songs can to be too similar in sound, mushing together in a monotonous lump. They smartly kept their set short however, Miles announcing that the band would save the drama of leaving the stage for an encore and finished with an astounding cover of Kate Bush’s “Hounds of Love.”
In person, Ra Ra Riot look even younger than their photographs expose. This freshness translates into their high-energy shows as mild overcompensation, childish but still earnest. They stood on the Hi-Dive stage as six flawless beauties, sweat beading just so on their faces in the warmth of the dank venue, their handsomeness and jolly demeanor playing as big a part in the show as their music.
Comparisons are inescapable to their equally pretty, equally tender and appealing contemporaries Vampire Weekend and Tokyo Police Club, but Ra Ra Riot play their own brand of honeyed East Coast mild rock like six college kids who just wanna have fun.
is a Denver-based writer and regular Reverb contributor. Check out her and .
is a Denver photographer and regular Reverb contributor.
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