The Dodos, London Scala

November 14, 2009

“HEEEELLLLOOOO LOOONDON!!!” shouts front man Meric Long, as he prances onto the stage in trademark leopard-print leggings and sleeveless vest. NOT REALLY. Shy, retiring and almost certainly bullied at school (“Ooh, I’m really jetlagged,” says Long – NO YOU’RE NOT, YOU’RE SHY), The Dodos (née Dodo Bird) walk onstage at The Scala, staring at the floor, take seats/pick up guitars, and launch into an frenetic rendition of a song that I still don’t know the name of. It’s off Visiter alright, just buy the album. Yes, they do bear a teensy bit of resemblance to Animal Collective – there’s some background yelping and both bands have a very keen grasp of the components of a song (both in terms of individual instruments and song structure), but where they lack some of the inventiveness of Panda Bear, Geologist and don’t care, they excel in melody and build up. They also probably don’t have ADHD.

Jet-lagged or not, Long looks like he was enjoying himself that night – the rapturous crowd do a lot of unprovoked clapping in unison, always inducing smiles from the stage. It’s just so hard not to go along with the rhythm when it’s just so rhythmical. Live newcomer, Keaton Snyder, joins Long’s partner in crime, Logan Kroeber on drums several times, producing a very loud, strange, primal, hip-shaking vibe. It’s rather hard as an audience member not to be infected by Long’s madcap guitar spazzing – finger-picking or whacking the shit out the strings with a plectrum, every member of the band is almost uncomfortably talented, and I could watch them banging kitchen crockery with spoons and it would be fun. As it is, they’ve got a guitar, a ton of drums, a vibraphone, a xylophone and a violin bow. The set’s so ridiculously exciting one girl literally starts hitting herself in the head. There’s a very hypnotic, percussive element in the music, and when it’s live it’s turned up to the nth. Despite only having three members (two on record), the band really fill up your ears. Double drummers, quadruple-sticked xylophone playing,  it’s hard not to refer to them as ‘post-’ something, purely because despite being so melodic, they’re also interesting. Unfortunately, they do occasionally over-indulge in those wig-out sessions, and a twenty-minute encore seems a bit pointless. We like you, okay? You know we like you! We paid to see you! Well I didn’t pay, but I gave a fiver to a homeless guy before the show, so swings and roundabouts.

But unlike some ‘psych’ bands, the jam aspect of the music is far more than the sum of its component parts. Rather than changing up a song in the middle, dragging it out when you could probably have just recorded two songs (yes White Denim, I love you but you’re the worst), The Dodos manage to rip up a song for eight minutes without losing focus, building up a wild swing that starts with a beat and a guitar, and gradually becomes a semi-ecstatic level of LOUD NOISE – bi-polar rock at its best.