For a band who’s live reputation is built upon chaos, the atmosphere of Friday’s Hear Lincoln outdoor concert marked a very real departure from the usual for Lincoln’s Universe Contest.
There were no mosh pits, no screaming patrons, no flying beer cans. No dim rock club illuminated by their exploding light show.
Instead, they held forth under a canopy of passing cumulus clouds and towering buildings on 13th and N Streets, surrounded by business people, music connoisseurs, food trucks, and beer tents.
The band seemed to treat this show, devoid of mayhem, a little differently in certain respects. They appeared relaxed in demeanor, bordering on subdued, which may have been due in part to the festival-like feel of a blocked-off 13th Street. They were also as sharp and clear as ever, a fact more easily recognizeable when one is able to take in the whole sound from a distanced spectating location, rather than being shoved up against one side of the stage. Each blaring lead riff and throbbing base note, every haunting keyboard chord progression was starkly audible while also complementary.
The outdoor setting furnished an oddly complimentary showcase for their progressive sound. Standing 30 feet from the stage-protecting barrier – as most did – it would have been difficult to keep one’s head from floating into the fluffy clouds above, transported by the reverberating spacey rock of “Doo Without Papers” emanating from the stage and swirling upward. With
The band has always been able to provide a wildly energetic, bash-your-head-against-the-wall escape during their sets. On this occasion, a pulsating rendition of “The Day The Earth Took Pills” launched the minds of Lincoln into the troposphere, where they buoyed throughout the set. A band that usually promotes a riot instead fostered contemplation and introspection, a foray into the figurative universe in one’s own mind.
Their music tends to fill whatever space is available to occupy. Friday, the space was less defined than usual, unshackling their sound in a way that was greatly refreshing. Rather than pounding a sweaty, cluttered room, it soared through the streets and carried listeners along with it. It is admirable when a band can adapt to its surroundings, and even more so when it relishes the opportunity.
Even as laid-back as they were, it was the same old Universe Contest. Singer/guitarist Tim Carr took a few seconds before each of the first few songs to – snarkily, but in the spirit of the day – plug various Lincoln businesses like Yia Yia’s and Jake’s Cigars and Spirits. His penchant for ruffling feathers also made an appearance, assuring all that yes, he did indeed say “fuck” on that last number.
Before it set the audience too far adrift, the band crashed back to earth and into “Jumbi”, and then it was back to the office and real-life for the rest of the afternoon.
The Replacement-Level Lebowski 