OK, sorry, that’s their tagline. They were totally pretty good, though. The Human Tape Recorder was not alone at the Fillmore in Silver Spring last night: some of the songs seemed to consist of the folks on stage just holding the microphones out to the audience. I didn’t remember “Karaoke with 2000 people” on the ticket, but hey.
If you’re not familiar with Starkid and the StarKidPotter show, I assume that you are over the age of consent and don’t have teenagers at home. The music didn’t suck, generally, and some of the standout songs were really good – when this group puts its collective mind to doing an R&B old school blues number, they can bring it down. The parts that came from the college auditorium review still sound like they came from a college auditorium review – not that there’s anything wrong with that.
While it’s disconcerting to be among 2000 people at a show and still raise the average age by 5 years, I have to say that makes me glad to see teens at a concert like this wearing Spinal Tap tee-shirts. Another good one said “Shakespere hates your emo poems.” On me, that would be rude. On the skinny goth emo chick wearing it, it was hilarious. I would have bought her a drink, but of course she was probably 12.
The HTR had several friends there, bordering on a mob of their own, and one of the other parents loaned me a pair of earplugs for the duration. What little hearing I have, I owe to him. What little sanity I have I don’t owe anyone for, I paid for it – in the form of a Dewers on the rocks, mid-way through the show. The venue is actually great; the acoustics at the Fillmore are amazing in surround-sound – I got all the songs from the stage, from the sound system, and from 1500 female amplifiers, all aged 18 and under.
The highlight of the evening was being groped by a teenage girl with a Ron Paul for President button. Of course, when I texted this fact to SOBUMD (“My life is getting weirder by the minute!”), all I got back in terms of sympathy was “Just lie back and think of the blog.” Heh.
The opening act was a guy named George Watsky. He was more than just pretty good – I’d’ve paid to see him by himself. He recalls Bo Burnham, but I mean that in a nice way. More interesting to me was that when someone shouted something about “do the something something one” he said, “This is a concert. That’s a poem. You don’t really want me to recite a poem to you, do you?” The crowd said yes, pretty clearly – and he stood there on stage and recited a poem (about lisping, and getting past that fact) to a crowd of 2000 mostly teenage girls. And they applauded like crazy – his delivery was great, the content was good, but to me the simple fact that the opening act can still hold a crowd like this steady and happy with a poem… Well, it does my heart good.
But all good things must come to an end, and I got the HTR home a little after midnight – a near-final birthday gift concluded – and it was totally awesome. Just ask her!