Cab Ellis

Before I get into this...Cab Ellis has a show at Bowery Ballroom on January 10th. If you're in nyc, go see them! Truly, this is not something you want to miss. Tickets HERE.

Jesus fucking christ. This band has really restored my faith in my generation of rock n roll. I've been sitting on some thoughts about this show for a while and decided it was finally time to get them out in the open. NYC is burgeoning with new music (as always, but particularly the rock scene right now) but Cab Ellis is taking things to another level. Their music literally jumps off the stage and around the room.

Frontman Connor Abeles is probably one of the most engaging performers I have ever seen (in real life or online). He lies somewhere on a spectrum between Iggy Pop and David Byrne. Hitting his own head on stage like a swimmer trying to get water out his ear, then having spastic shimmy, then jumping into the audience. I was entirely captivated. He started the show wearing a men's dress shirt under a woman's early 2000s empire waisted top, a silk scarf as an ascot, and tweed shorts that are so small on him they don't zip all the way up. I adore seeing how musicians style themselves, and Connor is no exception, but the ensemble is especially intriguing because of how the pieces fly off. It's like I'm watching a particularly vigorous (and sweaty) game of strip poker, sans gambling. First the tie, then the first shirt, then the second is unbuttoned, then it's off entirely. (see below)

The crowd just eats these guys up and gets wilder with every number.  The band's sound it nicely punctuated by a trombone and sax which bring in some melody that the more spoken vocal sometimes lacks. The brass also creates this beautiful, unique nostalgia without overshadowing the guitars and bass. Not to mention the killer rhythm section that keeps everything tight and the lead guitar that just goes berserk. 

The vibe was kind of:

 *jumpy jumpy jumpy* 

then 

*watch connor do some crazy shit, ooh and ah* 

then back to 

*jumpy jumpy jumpy* 

then 

*crazy guitar solo* 

then more 

*jumpy! jumpy! jumpy!* 

Connor's deranged performance just eradicates everyone's threshold for what's socially ok. It's like he gave everyone the go ahead to go a little nuts, like he's saying "you think you can beat this?" Nobody could match his freak. (God, I'm going to regret typing that in 3...2...now I'm cringing) Needless to say, with Connor leading the crowd like a cult leader on acid, moshing ensued. Everyone was sweaty and elated. There was this sensibility of teenage abandon from so many people. It was delicious.s

(a brief aside about mosh pits: I have seen my fair share of moshing going to rock shows and, sadly, bad frat parties. I love them when you can really let loose and bounce around like bumper cars but... I have come to avoid them. You get elbowed in the tit by a sweaty man one too many times and they start to become less appealing. So often mosh pits just descend into a circle jerk of men trying to see who can be the most obnoxiously agro... alas.) 

Anyway, this crowd was slightly more (shall I say it?) mindful  than what I described above. Connor running off stage toward the opposite end of the venue, parting people like the red sea, certainly broke things up. Not to mention the  wall of musicians looking on from the side of the venue that seemed set on not moving beyond a head nod. ugh.

(You know that scene in Almost Famous? Where Lester Bangs (Philip Seymour Hoffman) is telling William how there are rock stars that will "ruin rock 'n' roll and strangle everything we love about it" and rock is in danger of becoming an "industry of cool." Musicians against the wall and not in the pit or at least dancing? The self-affected, false "i don't give a fuck" attitude. That is the industry of cool.)

Now, the posturing bullshit might exist in the periphery of the show, it certainly permeates the rest of downtown, but Cab Ellis somehow jetpacks themselves above it all. They embrace the messy, sweaty, griminess that rock should be. Their set might have been a performance but they were never once in danger of being insincere. It was just pure effervecent joy exploding off stage. When they played songs like "Dogsitting" and "Impossible Sports" it was just this swelling wave of energy that broke over the crowd, pulling back in just to swell again. By the end of the set, Connor had climbed up onto the balcony and jumped off into the crowd, the guitar player (forgive me I don't know their name) was on the floor shredding like Angus Young, and my face genuinely hurt from smiling by the time the show was over. It felt like we had all just experienced something momentous. I felt like: if this still exists... this level of energy on stage and in the crowd? there might be hope for fucking rock n roll yet.