Regretfully I must attribute my inability to connect during the Mates of State show to my own personal shortcomings. It could not have been the atmosphere: love, no doubt, was in the air. One expects nothing less from the husband and wife duo who played a double show at the Independent in San Francisco on April 20th and 21st, sharing headlining duties with Jacksonville rockers Black Kids.
Lovers anticipate one another’s emotions, musicians anticipate one another’s rhythms, and the Mates do both. Their musicality affords them the freedom to keep pace with disjointed rhythm, while their love manifests onstage as anything from playful flirting to beguiling glances. Watching their interplay one is reminded of the couple that captivates cocktail parties with near rehearsed synchronicity in storytelling. Except whereas those couples finish one another’s sentences, the Mates finish one another’s harmonies.
Local rockers Judgment Day accompanied the Mates on stage, layering familiar favorites with an orchestral array of strings, brass, and percussion. The layers added new depth to the music, though the band itself sometimes felt intrusive. During the Monday performance the Mates surprised the crowd with an onstage marriage proposal between two fans. The adulation colored the remainder of the performance; such that I wondered if the climate of intimacy might distract or even detract from the show. Ultimately it did not. The enraptured gazes of adoring fans swaying mellifluously to high-pitched harmonies proves that seeing the Mates might be about more than just seeing the music. After all, the only thing more contagious than love is vicarious love.
The Mates left the stage to be together and we of the single community were left with a romantic void in need of fulfillment or at the very least exorcism. Enter the Black Kids. “Are you dancers in San Francisco,” Reggie screeched into the microphone. “We want you to dance with us!” Then it became clear: perhaps we did not need love, just somebody with which to dance.
Onstage, the Black Kids transmit the same quirky humor, playfulness and schoolyard charm of their albums, but to a more pointed degree. The heavy production values of Partie Traumatic make for a cleaner sound, but I believe the Black Kids work best a little distorted, a little dirty. Amps up and filters down, their sound better compliments the youthfulness conveyed in their melodies and lyrics. Each night the band favored a more low-fi/low tech stage setup resulting in an intimate experience more reminiscent of a house party than a headlining event. The Black Kids are a reflection of the youthful insecurities we mask in flamboyant confidence, and I believe this intimacy could easily get lost in the wrong venue. The Black Kids are a band not too small and just big enough to still avoid the sunburn of the limelight. Here’s hoping they stay that way.
