Rockness Recommends
The Twilight Sad: life is full of second chances.
September 24, 2007
Here's a sad story about The Twilight Sad. In August, we flew all the way to Oslo, Norway on an earlier flight than we were supposed to specifically to see this band's set, which also happened to kick off the Oya Festival. We even splurged on an overpriced high-speed train ride from Norway's most modern airport in order to get to this show in time.
But really, we weren't that worried, since we knew there would be an opening band before The Twilight Sad (who were supposed to go on right before Shout Out Louds) and we thought we'd have at least an hour cushion. And although we were one-hundred dollars lighter from our fifteen-minute train ride in the Norwegian sun, it was worth it as we ended up timing it perfectly and showed up to the club just as the opening band was playing its final song.
We half-listened to this unknown opening band's intense feedback freakout as we made our way to the back of the bar to score a $12 bottle of Ringnes. And then, just under thirty seconds later, the singer said triumphantly, "Thank you, goodnight," to which the crowd responded with a deafening roar of Scandinavian approval. (Wow, pretty good reaction to an opening band). We leaned over and giggled with each other that the singer sounded just like Renton from Trainspotting. And that's when the color drained from our faces and we slowly realized with horror that... uh-oh... this wasn't some opening band. This was The Twilight Sad!
They pulled a scheduling switcheroo! And just as we realized we had missed the band we had come so far to see, an awed neighbor to our right approached us and said, "Who was that amazing band?" A tear trickled from our left-eye and we replied despondently, "It was The Twilight Sad."
Thinking back on it now, perhaps we were being a bit overdramatic over missing The Twilight Sad. After all, bands... you know... tour. And thankfully, we didn't have to wait long to get a second-chance at seeing these Scottish soon-to-be indie superstars whose album Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters has been in our personal stereo rotation for weeks.
The four guys in this Glasgow band create four-minute guitar anthems that are undeniably catchy and sing-a-long-able, but they'll also throw in strange stuff like theremins, thumb pianos, and saws to add a noisy and eccentric complexity to their verse-chorus-verse format. They play what can maybe be described as hard-pop with an ambient slant. So basically, you can hold up a lighter to their positively swelling songs and not feel guilty for doing so.
And what is it about a strong Scottish accent that sounds so awesome in song? The wonderfully thick brogue just seems to go well with melody (and it's a big reason why I once thought, circa 1993, Trashcan Sinatras were the best band in the world). The Twilight Sad, and specifically singer James Graham, rock a regional dialect that's to die for.
We love this band, and this time we're not messing around. We're showing up to this show at least six hours early. But if we get there and find out they went on at 11 in the morning, we're seriously going to be pissed.
The Twilight Sad play The Empty Bottle, on Thursday, October 4th.
But really, we weren't that worried, since we knew there would be an opening band before The Twilight Sad (who were supposed to go on right before Shout Out Louds) and we thought we'd have at least an hour cushion. And although we were one-hundred dollars lighter from our fifteen-minute train ride in the Norwegian sun, it was worth it as we ended up timing it perfectly and showed up to the club just as the opening band was playing its final song.
We half-listened to this unknown opening band's intense feedback freakout as we made our way to the back of the bar to score a $12 bottle of Ringnes. And then, just under thirty seconds later, the singer said triumphantly, "Thank you, goodnight," to which the crowd responded with a deafening roar of Scandinavian approval. (Wow, pretty good reaction to an opening band). We leaned over and giggled with each other that the singer sounded just like Renton from Trainspotting. And that's when the color drained from our faces and we slowly realized with horror that... uh-oh... this wasn't some opening band. This was The Twilight Sad!
They pulled a scheduling switcheroo! And just as we realized we had missed the band we had come so far to see, an awed neighbor to our right approached us and said, "Who was that amazing band?" A tear trickled from our left-eye and we replied despondently, "It was The Twilight Sad."
Thinking back on it now, perhaps we were being a bit overdramatic over missing The Twilight Sad. After all, bands... you know... tour. And thankfully, we didn't have to wait long to get a second-chance at seeing these Scottish soon-to-be indie superstars whose album Fourteen Autumns & Fifteen Winters has been in our personal stereo rotation for weeks.
The four guys in this Glasgow band create four-minute guitar anthems that are undeniably catchy and sing-a-long-able, but they'll also throw in strange stuff like theremins, thumb pianos, and saws to add a noisy and eccentric complexity to their verse-chorus-verse format. They play what can maybe be described as hard-pop with an ambient slant. So basically, you can hold up a lighter to their positively swelling songs and not feel guilty for doing so.
And what is it about a strong Scottish accent that sounds so awesome in song? The wonderfully thick brogue just seems to go well with melody (and it's a big reason why I once thought, circa 1993, Trashcan Sinatras were the best band in the world). The Twilight Sad, and specifically singer James Graham, rock a regional dialect that's to die for.
We love this band, and this time we're not messing around. We're showing up to this show at least six hours early. But if we get there and find out they went on at 11 in the morning, we're seriously going to be pissed.
The Twilight Sad play The Empty Bottle, on Thursday, October 4th.
