French rockers have been around our block a few times. , they floored the audience at the Bluebird with a tributary mini-set of Michael Jackson tunes. The result was a dance party that people didn’t stop talking about for weeks.
, the powers that be had enough sense to move the band from a lesser stage at Monolith to the main Red Rocks Amphitheatre stage. And again, the band’s set seemed to throw everybody for an unexpected loop. As the sun set, row after row of the audience danced off that cold, rainy day.
So itap absolutely no surprise that Tuesday nightap sold-out show at was filled with high expectations and eager asses. It was the band’s third Denver-area performance since releasing 2009’s “Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix” — an album that can’t seem to get enough radio and commercial attention.
But Phoenix didn’t pull out any shockers. The set list consisted mostly of “Wolfgang” tracks with a couple old — “Everything is Everything” was a stand-out — and couple new songs thrown in for good measure. No famous musicians died. No major two-day festival was winding down. But though that might sound mundane in lieu of their recent performances, it wasn’t. The prediction with Phoenix is that you’re going to have a damned good time, and there was nary a soul in that sweaty mess of a crowd who didn’t.
Track after track contained incredibly tight renditions of their songs, with high energy poured in at just the right moments. Not the chattiest of bands, singer Thomas Mars would interject occasionally, thanking the crowd and seeming honestly amazed and humbled by the group’s reception.
Particularly noteworthy was Phoenix’s light show. With orange horizontal lines over the stage and bright white splashes flashing with impeccable timing, there was certainly no lack of visual stimulation. After a brief intermission for “Love Is Like a Sunset,” the band’s instruments were lit up in their most basic geometric patterns. Moments later, the lights distorted and rotated around the stage, creating a bizarre effect that was almost enough to make Trapper Keepers look cool again.
Phoenix unsurprisingly left “1901” for the encore, extending the song into an audience “falling, falling, falling” sing-a-long. But just in case all the bright lights had blocked the Parisians’ view of the movers and shakers, they allowed them a side-by-side opportunity. After invitation from Mars, the front rows of the audience bum-rushed the stage for the closing of the show. Itap not difficult to guess what everyone began to do, which leaves you wondering if Phoenix’s primary message is only four words: dance your ass off.
Follow Reverb on Twitter! !
Erica Grossman is a Denver-based writer and photographer. You can contact her at eagrossman@gmail.com or follow her on .
Joe McCabe is a Denver photographer and a regular contributor to Reverb. Check out his .
