Protomartyr/Priests/Taiwan Housin

Live in Philadelphia (2016)

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Light wisps of snow blew through the edge of North Philly as a number of beanie-clad wanderers scuttled outside of the Underground Arts, catching their last inhalations of scorching tobacco fumes before going subterranean to catch a stunning night of post-punk music. On the bill were a strange collection of bands who followed the "post-punk" term in rather unique methods—Taiwan Housing Project, Priests, and the suddenly highly-regarded Protomartyr.

Kicking off the night were the incredibly loud and grooving Taiwan Housing Project, who hit the slowly-building crowd with an incredible wall of somewhat subdued rage, driven by surprisingly solid basslines. Alongside the grinding guitars and expertly-played drums was the roar of a saxophone, playing the equivalent of a Miles Davis fever dream to accompany the Pere Ubu-inspired madness of TWP. Though this was something I had to get used to (as my brand of post-punk is typically Wire, Gang of Four, and the aforementioned Ubu), the crowd seemed to really dig it and sway along to the themes of the apocalypse that the band cast forth. Is this pretentious enough yet?

Following TWP was the main reason I showed up: DC’s magnificent powerhouse Priests. There really isn’t enough that I can say about Priests, as they present a solid threat on all fronts that’s incredibly danceable. Alongside the Peter Hook-esque basslines and perfectly thumping drums prowl the eerily beautiful guitar lines of G.L. Jaguar, who at times bounces between crazy wind-milling on his guitar and prowling around the stage as he plucks strings and stares at the audience, as if eyeing up prey. At the forefront of this beautifully menacing music is vocalist Katie Alice Greer, whose voice is at times both deceptive and charming. I swear I get chills every time I hear her belt out the lyrics to "Doctor," arguably the greatest track off the LP Bodies and Control and Money and Power. The only detractor to this incredible set was a pack of dicks moshing a little too hard to the music, seemingly pouncing only for entertainment and not actually moving to the music. At least it didn’t ruin the set.

At long last came the group who I admittedly hadn’t heard of until Iggy Pop had regarded their latest album, The Agent Intellect, as one of his favorites of 2015—the very peculiar Protomartyr. The squad of Detroit-based musicians approached the stage and set up their accompanying gear, eventually joined by frontman Joe Casey, donning his usual tie-less suit and misanthropic demeanor. Perhaps this was the booze doing its cruel work, but my drunken first impression saw these boys as a quartet of Temple film students who were working on Sonic Youth covers in the drummer’s garage when his older, fairly drunk cousin came home from a coworker’s wedding and immediately began reciting old limericks from high school into the microphone that no-one wanted to sing into. Granted, this impression was soon shattered by the lovely, atmospheric tunes that Protomartyr belted out over the course of the night. They primarily focuses on tunes from their most recent album, as well as some select tracks from their prior effort, ‘Under Color of Official Right’.

Despite Joe Casey’s rather laidback singing approach of holding beer-in-hand and talking loudly into the microphone hovering above his face, he had a certain undefinable charm to him. Perhaps it was the incredibly poetic lyrics, or the way that the beautifully haunting music surrounded him, or even the cadre of men in ironed plaid shirts and slacks dancing with their dates (save for the one going solo and drunkenly shouting to every word—I love you, drunken shouting friend) that really sold the show, but either way, something about it just clicked. Bravo, Protomartyr. You toppled my expectations and for that, we can be friends. Cheers.