Alvvays @ The Roxy (10/23/17) // Show Review
Written by Ashley Hoffman
It was awkwardly a Monday night, but the matte-black Roxy was sold out for the dream-pop band Alvvays. Antisocialites, the groupâs second album, was just released in September, three years after their debut Alvvays. Antisocialites distills the sound of their first album: overlaid harmonies with clean pop-rock instrumentals and repetitive beats, wrapped together and kept alive with Molly Rankinâs effortless yet strong vocals. Above all, the record sounds clean and deeply intentional, and this show only further emphasized that impression through Alvvaysâ precise, largely emotionless performance.
The very adult audience for this show ranged from fans in their twenties to their sixties, mostly balancing around 30 to 40 year olds. The only two teenage girls I saw were standing with their mom. Many men and women donned plaid button-down shirts and glasses. âItâs indie music, what are you afraid of?â one thirty-something-year-old woman asked her friend, who was hesitating from cutting into the peaceful crowd. Someone else in the crowd asked, âHow do you say their name?â The answer is âlike always,â by the way.
Alvvaysâ opener, an all-male indie four-piece called Nap Eyes, was a pleasant prelude. Their songs were enjoyable, not particularly unique but high quality. They kept thanking the audience for listening or paying any attention to them, and re-emphasizing that theyâre called Nap Eyes, the long-haired bassist joking, âIn case it slipped your mind.â
On the dot at 9:30 p.m., Alvvays sauntered on stage amid a monochrome backdrop which projected their name crookedly in massive block letters. The fan-favorite is definitely their lead singer and guitarist, Molly Rankin, a composed young woman with white-blonde hair that captured the colors of the stage lights. Despite being at the forefront for the band, she remained largely silent between songs. The other four members of the band barely engaged with the audience at all: a male guitarist in a black polo, a curly-haired female drummer, a bored male bassist, and a brunette female keyboardist with thick glasses. The five performers spread themselves far apart on the stage, just occasionally glancing at each other. Frankly, Alvvays looked like they were going through the motions to finish their jobs for the night, but their obvious over-rehearsal paid off in their sound.
The band shuffled the songs on their new album, for example, bouncing from âPlimsoll Punksâ to âLollipop (Ode to Jim)â to âNot My Baby.â They also added in some old hits including âArchie, Marry Me,â which brought out the most audience enthusiasm among bright yellow lights. Hats off to Rankin; her voice sounds just as clear and angelic live as recorded, if anything too covered by heavy instrumentals and dreamy reverb at times in concert. The overall sound was very similar to the record - the audio was no disappointment.
However, their performance seemed distant. It felt as if Alvvays was re-recording the album, going through the songs with wonderful precision, rarely commenting. Rankinsâs occasional transitions were at most brief sentences, like âMind if we play an escapist ballad for you?â before âForget About Life,â or introducing âDreams Toniteâ with simply, âTime to get romantic.â Even their few moments of grandeur, a bold drum solo in âIn Undertowâ or an extra high note, appeared calculated. No one broke the stiff facade. The bassist looked so underwhelmed at times that he stared out, mouth agape.
I donât mean to imply that the band was rude; they simply seemed reserved, or disconnected from the room. The performers rarely smiled, but when Rankin did chat she put on a quick grin. Also, her hands are full, literally; her guitar Iâm sure takes much of her attention. Their rigidity also didnât stop the fans from being fairly enthused. Only about 45 to 50 minutes in, Alvvays announced that they just had one song left, which the audience actually booed. The moment the final pre-encore song, âParty Police,â finished, Alvvays hustled offstage without even looking at the audience, but one fan still playfully yelled the chorus lyric back to them: âYou donât have to leave!â Aside from that booing, the crowd was nodding throughout the show, even jumping, and consistently resembled a whack-a-mole of recording devices, iPhones peeking up to take a picture or two before retreating.
NPRâs First Listen reported that Rankin described Antisocialites as a âfantasy breakup arc,â but live it felt more like when youâve talked about a breakup so many times that you no longer draw any emotion when explaining it. And thatâs fine; being loose or messy is not their scene. The impression left on me was just a numb performance, bored but not bad.
People go to concerts for different reasons. If you go to a show to hear a band live and just focus on the music, you should definitely go to an Alvvays show, the music was superb. If you just love the concert experience and want to meet fellow fans, sure, go. Or if youâre in love with Rankin as so many other fans are, go (but donât try to kiss her like some jerk did in Belgium this September â respect, people!). However, based on this performance, donât go if you expect audience engagement, interaction with the musicians, or being entertained by bold, outgoing personalities. Personally, Iâm the kind of audience member looking for something more than just the record, and I didnât really get that. Alvvays is very talented but Iâll likely skip their next show and just listen to their recordings at home instead â they sound the same.
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