One of four (thank you)

You know how when you're in a new car, and it's got that wonderful new car smell and feel? I have that feeling right now, only it's about a band. I love new band smell.

Canasta. Oh, Canasta. There was a lot to like about this show, and it all starts here. I first noticed them before the show started and before I knew who they were. There they were, sitting off to the side of the room, quietly, as if nothing at all was about to burst forth. "Hmm. Christmas sweater." is what I thought to myself. Then, slowly, there were more. "Apparently there's a theme on. I wonder why no one told me?" Not that I am particularly fond of Christmas sweaters, or even happen to own any. Heck, it's not even like I'm all that big on Christmas celebrations on the whole. But still, maybe it would have been nice to know ahead of time, Canasta. Maybe there could have been a memo. Anyway. I'll certainly give them that they had their own thing going on, and that's what being an indie band is all about: doing your own thing, independently. No matter if what you look or sound isn't mainstream. In this case, the look was ridiculous (hey Canasta, the Griswolds called, and they said quit pinching stuff from their closets) to the point that at times I was overcome. Couldn't even look at them. Just had to turn away and laugh. The sound, however, was superb. And infectious. From the start of the first song, they made the crowd come alive. And when I say "crowd" I really mean just one guy, but he danced so intensely that he made up for everyone else. I went up and danced along, couldn't leave him up there alone and unchallenged, but you knew that already. Canasta totally owns doing their own thing, with the musical prowess and the vocal chops to do whatever they want, and do it well. This included a completely rearranged rendition of a Christmas song that was so infused with their style of awesomeness that I couldn't even tell you what it was, and a wonderful cover of Elton's "Bennie and the Jets" that makes me wish I could take them home with me, or at least borrow the lead singer's voice to bring out to karaoke sometimes.

Canasta - Mexico City

Jon Hardy and the Public is everything a typical indie band is not. If The Man had a band, this is what I would imagine they'd look and sound like. Guys in ties and suit jackets + a girl in a dress. Competent guitarists + keyboardist + horn section, but lacking a vibrancy, or urgency, or energy, or soul. I mean, don't pull out a baritone sax if you don't know how to use it, kay? Go home and listen to some Tower of Power, then come back and we'll talk. The shame of it is had I not known what was to come from the next two acts and been unexpectedly blown away by Canasta, I probably would have liked them just fine. Some of their songs were in fact perfectly danceable, but if I stopped to wander away from the stage and talk to someone I didn't feel like I was missing much. I suppose I can give them one more chance to prove to me that they can rock, but they better bring it.

Elsinore was originally scheduled to be the headliner; due to an unfortunate incident involving a drunk driver after a show in Columbia that put the drummer out of commission the band had to drop out, but lead singer Ryan Groff stepped up to go solo for the remaining dates on the tour. Having seen Ryan perform with Elsinore countless times I felt I knew exactly what to expect, and it turned out I was pretty much dead on: soft spoken guitar, beautiful singing and masterful whistling. Ryan's got a pretty little voice, easily one of the best I've ever seen live, and he knows how to hypnotize a room. Without the band behind him it makes for a much mellower sound, which made quite the juxtaposition next to the other acts in the lineup. Such a change in the energy flow between bands is potentially a huge buzzkill and the kind of thing I'm rather particular about, luckily Ryan is supremely awesome. It's quite possible he's a minor deity, or more likely some sort of wizard. Despite the absence of the band, at times I could almost feel their presence and danced along to the energetic parts of songs just as if they were there. About the only thing that was surprising was his magical looping pedals, which I'm pretty sure he used to layer his whistling over itself. Magical Masterful Looping Whistling sure is a mouthful, and it's quite an earful as well.

With four bands on the bill I was quite afraid that the sets would be frustratingly short, and most importantly that I wouldn't be able to dance properly to Jumbling Towers (it's nice to jam along with songs you know). It's even fun to jam along with songs you don't know (they put out a new EP that I don't have yet), especially when the new man in the band is dancing up on stage. Now that's what I call exciting.

Bonus: After JT finished the sound guy turned on some music while the crowd made its way out and the band packed up. I thought it was likely some old classic rock band I'd not yet heard of because they started fifteen years before I was born, but it turns out they'd come through St. Louis just last week. Mental note: Mount Carmel might the best thing since Grand Funk Railroad. Further investigation required.