The first time I saw Les Savy Fav, I had one of their records which I was digging on and had been told they were a great live band, but I wasn’t at all prepared for the living spectacle that is Sir Harrington. He’s got this homeless schizophrenic guy kind of charm (just Google it; a picture does a thousand words). And so, a song or so in, everything’s cool. I’m wondering why he’s wearing socks on his hands, but there’s nothing completely batshit yet. So, I head out to the bathroom and come back to get another drink, but can’t, because he’s standing on the bar, grabbing cocktail cherries from the supplies with his mouth and spitting them into various other crowd member’s mouths. Later, several makeshift floating stages were erected and he and others danced on top of the crowd which grew increasingly deranged and ecstatic. It was a Dionysian freak out of epic proportions.
Now, most bands that resort to shock or bar band theatrics such as these usually do so as almost a cosmetic shield to cover up the fact that their music sucks, but the Fav are one of those rare exceptions who deliver the infectious party jams effortlessly. Kind of like a less arty bender pep squad version of The Pixies, or something to that effect. In my mind, Go Forth and Inches (which is actually a collection of singles) are two of the most brilliant “indie” rock records to drop in the last decade. Fucking classics. A lot of bands are going to push themselves searching for the “new sound” to write their pretentious Kid A knock off, but with Root To Ruin, these guys just do what they do best, which is kick out the fucking jams, and what more could you ask for, really? It’s dancey, the guitar work’s predictably brilliant, and it puts me in the happy place. In fact, why am I not partying right now? Don’t I have some pills lying around? Fuck, well, beer then.