Dispatch
Saw the next to last Dispatch show last night at the Somerville Theatre. They will be playing the Hatch Shell Saturday night.
The crowd was actually a bit older than I was suspecting. Yes, there were 15 year old girls in tight velure pants and new trucker hats, but it was mostly 20-somethings.
So the music... Well, the last time I saw these guys (then named One Fell Swoop), they were playing an empty basement show at the ACME Underground in New York in '98, and a name change, 150,000 records and 6 years later they are now officially polished. But it still rings hollow. They're a bunch of Middlebury Kid's who coasted after college and sing songs about women's eyes and sleeping on the beach. I'm sorry guys, but after 1965, Rock n' Roll is supposed to show some anger. Laughing like a white, seeing, Ray Charles, and screaming "We love you" after every song (OK Pete Heimbolt is the only one who did that) doesn't work, ask the silver spooned Trent Reznor. Yes, Phish and Dave Mathews have slap happy lyrics, but there's some real Jazz influence, they don't smile all the time, and they're guitar solos are not simple scales (Something that Pete actually has a hard time with).
Chad Urmstrom is going places. When I first met him, he was an 18 year old playing a decent trombone in my junior year dorm's cafe. Brad is going to be a Christian Rock god in five years (the Virgin Mary on his guitar strap is kinda cool). Pete, well, when you clearly enjoy the applause more than playing the music, your not a musician; your a clown. I think I know why Chad and Brad wanted to end this thing three years ago.