OK Go @ the Metro, April 17, 2010,
Of the Blue Colour of the Sky ( Paracadute Records )
Samba Bamba @ Martyrs', April 12, 2010
Ten fun facts about Damian Kulash, Jr., and his band, OK Go;
1. Kulash once got arrested at Disney World and spent a night in the clink ( he was signing autographs after a show and got busted for obstructing traffic and resisting arrest ) .
2. He and his band started dressing like Carnaby St. dandies because they got sick of performing in t-shirts and jeans.
3. Kulash's grandfather invented fish sticks.
4. The video of OK Go's "Here It Goes Again" has been viewed 50 million times online as of this writing.
5. Kulash wrote a 'how to guide' called "How Your Band Can Fire Bush" for rock bands hoping to unseat George W. Bush.
6. Kulash's favorite curse word is the "c" word because "it still has impact when you say it."
7. Just after the release of OK Go's latest album, Of the Blue Colour of the Sky, the band split with its major label ( Capitol/EMI ) and started their own ( Paracadute Recordings ) . Both sides insist that the split was benign with no ill feelings.
8. Kulash met bassist Tim Nordwind at summer camp when they were kids.
9. OK Go had a cameo as Paul Rudd's wedding band at the end of I Love You Man.
10. Kulash, Nordwind, guitarist Andy Ross, and drummer Dan Konopka ( OK Go ) care deeply about you and your happiness.
That last one I can't verify but from the vibe I get from them it's probably true. Though OK Go had left Chicago years ago they're so intellectually engaging, artistically inventive, amicably embraceable, cuttingly stylish and so damn nice that their local fans won't even consider them as L.A. transplants.
Even before 2006's stellar Oh No ( Capitol Records ) and the "Here It Goes Again" video phenomenon it was obvious that this band was about something unheard of in current rock and roll, namely fun. The evidence is on the tour video for "You're So Damn Hot:" There, they are chowing down on barbecue, playfully slinging their guitars, bowling, playing with little kids, hanging out with fans and grinning ear to ear through all of it. It takes an awful lot of work not to like them or Oh No's pure perfect pop. Which is what makes their latest, Of the Blue Colour of the Sky ( Paracadute Recordings ) such an unexpected mind twister. The bass line of the opener, "WTF," is a blunt heads up that this isn't merely intelligent, smart pop but something entirely different.
The word is that Kulash has found his inner Prince, specifically his "Around the World In A Day-paisley-print-Prince" circa 1985, but that's not all that I'm hearing here. More like the Beatles Magical Mystery Tour ( 1968 ) with a blast of Bootsy Collins and Electric Light Orchestra running around in the mix. If anything Kulash has run wild with his own twist on P-funk and it sounds like something nutty, new, adventurous, lush and dreamy. This ain't y'mama's funk that's for sure.
"WTF" with its squirrelly bass line and squiggly guitars is appropriate as a stopping point for the Prince comparisons and as a start for this album. Kulash spends the majority of the album pursuing a damsel ( or damsels ) who is every bit as feral as the one in Prince's "Irresistible Bitch" and just as fetching as the one in "Raspberry Beret." But Prince always fought to keep his lust in check knowing at all times where he was coming from and that he could deliver. Kulash sounds like a slave to his muse and his desire seems to confuse and confound him. "Are you some kinda dark sorcerer or am I under some kinda spell?" he burps and it's hard to tell if he's terrified or eroticized, or both. For most of the CD Kulash sings in a falsetto that's both off putting and alluring while Nordwind snakes his bass lines up and down and all around with a positively filthy dexterity. This is some wicked shit all right—homemade funk designed not for dance floors of chrome and glass discos but for hot grinding in the kitchen at summer house parties.
The entirety of the CD follows the scariness of "falling in love" in the dangerous sense. If on "WTF" Kulash is a little timid to go all the way, the rest of the album mirrors his emotional cyclone ride. "White Knuckles" is the closest that Blue Colour gets to a straight-up pop tune, which is fine by me. "I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe" is an hallucinatory funk strut of psychosomatic lust—I swear it sounds like Kulash is crying through clenched teeth, he wants this woman so bad. "Needing/Getting" is a note of rationality that almost puts a stop to all that exasperating desire ( "... it don't get much dumber then trying to forget a girl when you love her" ) but "End Love" starts it right back up again. "Last Leaf" brings to mind Jacques Demy's "I Will Wait for You" with its clear-eyed declaration of eternal love, but "While You Were Asleep" punctuates that pipedream and breaks Kulash's heart ( and ours ) with the exhausted question that's at the end of all broken romances; "Can't you love me how I want, please ...?"
I was surprised that I felt a little sad for Kulash at the end of "While You Were Asleep" because it made him sound not only vulnerable, but defeated and deeply wounded. But OK Go's sold-out gig Saturday, April 17 put a stop to any of that boo-hooing.
As a band that's always celebrated the indie spirit, this Metro show was a giddy, blow-out of hard rock, big laughs, harder funk, and non-stop blasts of confetti. The confetti started five songs into the set but the opener, "Invincible" with its pummeling drum parts ( thank you Dan ) and its over-the-top assault put the show in high gear from the start. The big question that nagged me was how Blue Colour's intimate funk would translate onstage. The answer: in a sweaty, snarling, ragged way that actually improved on the studio recording. Whereas the CD has a mouth-to-ear intimacy to it, the live show was far harder, more abrasive, far funkier. This show was all beat and breath with tons of musical surprises that topped the original. "Needing/Getting" was set on fire by Ross's searing guitar parts ( granted he was the only band member to dress in the OK Go style; for this show he wore a flaming orange three-piece suit ) while "I Want You So Bad I Can't Breathe" was far from tortured but belligerent and fiercely in your face.
As for Kulash, he didn't disappoint; ever the wise ass he came out smirking not so much out of self-confidence but with an expectation to have the time of his life. Exalting in OK Go's now true indie status without major label support he got snarkier by the minute; observations on walking around Wrigley Field that day and checking out Cubs fans ( they lost, he was amused ) , the wrath of God, Chicago's near-certain apocalypse ( according to him ) , performing in Utah and having to be polite, and making a show out of picking confetti out of his glass of whiskey, Kulash's jolliness infected the band and the Metro. "Don't Ask Me How I Am" ( one of the best F.U. anthems...ever ) , "Get Over It," "WTF," the Pixies' "Debaser," and "Do What You Want" were loopy and off the rails. OK Go may very well be the indie darlings of the moment, but from the looks of that show I suspect that that moment will last for a very long time.
For an entirely different kind of loopiness, Samba Bamba's one-off reunion gig at Martyrs' the week before was just as ferocious if not nutty.
I do remember seeing them at the now-closed Vinyl bar on Clybourn Avenue back in the '90s and having the lead singer, er "personality," one Monty "Sugarloaf" Mattachine try to force feed me a chunk of the most vulgar grocery store created birthday cake ( my fillings are still rattling with the threat of all that sugar ) . What I didn't entirely remember was how over-the-top, talented, and—gasp—refreshing Samba Bamba really is.
Mattachine, who stands damn near seven feet tall and was dressed in a jacket and ruffled shirt that looked like he knicked it from a fourth-rate suburban taco joint, was the ringleader for vocalist Lupe Lowenstein ( who is both Mexican and Jewish, or as Mattachine said, "She's got a lot of holidays" ) and co-vocalist, cut-up and valet Lindo McCartney.
The ironic thing of course is that they gave their cover songs more respect than they deserved. The opener, "Sambacabamba ( a mash-up of "Could It Be Magic" and "Copacabana" that would make Barry Manilow proud ) was just the tip off. Suzanne Vega ( "Tom's Diner" ) , Al Green ( "Let's Stay Together" ) , and the Doors ( "Light My Fire" ) got tumbled and twirled with Samba Bamba originals like "Cha Cha Heels," "Lust for Samba," and "Chica." Nuttier still were the audience participation parts: Mattachine leading a conga line through Martyrs', a karaoke contest where the prize was a copy of Forrest Gump, and the drawing of a matching pencil-thin mustache just like Mattachine's on the winner's kisser, and McCartney's deep-funked deadpan take on War's "Low Rider" ( to the quartet of lovely lesbians step-dancing to that one, thank you very much... ) .
What ultimately did come back to me was Mattachine's passionate cooing about the power of Samba Bamba as the ultimate aphrodisiac and spiritual enhancer with that insistent disco beat rumpa-thumping behind him. According to Mattachine, Samba Bamba is the nectar of the gods, the spirit of the angels, and the fire that burns from below. Of course he said this with his ever-quivering lips and that Joel Cairo 'stache wiggling around and the constant thrust of his hips … and of course the man was serious.
