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8/03
THE FRAMES
at Spaceland, June 10 |
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If you were at the Frames' sold-out
show, you may have recognized their front man, Glen Hansard, from his appearance
in the 1991 film The Commitments, about a fictional Irish soul band. But
probably not. Last time the group played L.A., only a few dozen people
showed up. Long "big in Ireland," the Frames only recently became a buzz
band stateside, after the release of their Steve Albini-produced album,
For the Birds. That buzz will grow.
"Aren't we all lost and isn't it
all deadly?" Hansard introduced one tune, apropos of nothing. Aimless monologues
like this one prefaced most of the group’s songs, telegraphing the way
the band’s swelling folk-rock ranged through big abstract topics -- love,
life, death -- then conflated them, in true romantic fashion. Hansard said
the preface to "Lay Me Down" was inspired by the time he bought his girlfriend
a burial plot, instead of purchasing a star in her name: "I will write
you letters that/Explain the way I’m thinking now/And lay me down/In the
hallowed ground/Down by your side I will stay." The music was flexible
enough to hold such grandiosity. A standard rock foursome plus fiddle,
the Frames went from big to small in the space of a minute. It recalled
the sensitive, inspirational rock of U2 or Coldplay, minus the sense that
the emotions involved are -- post-fame -- more thought than felt.
After an hour-and-a-half set, Hansard
did an encore of encores. First he had the jaded Silver Lake crowd ahh-ah-ahhing
a tender chorus; then he sang a snatch from Willy Wonka and the Chocolate
Factory's "Pure Imagination"; then he got the audience to join him in Bob
Marley's "Redemption Song": "Won't you help to sing/these songs of freedom/All
I ever had/redemption songs, redemption songs, redemption songs." (Alec
Hanley Bemis)
LA Weekly |
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