Wtorek 9 Cze 2009, 13:07
Ratatat at the Corner Hotel, 15/5/2009..
It’s funny how you can get into bands. Sometimes you’ll be approaching the wrong side of consciousness at a house party and find yourself stirring as somebody plays the latest long-player from some four-piece from the South, and manage to remember to pick it up over the next couple days, and fall in love with it. Sometimes you’ll hear them in between tracks on the wireless, not get the name of the song or the band, and be forced to wait another two weeks before you find out, manage to remember to pick it up over the next couple days, and fall in love with it. Sometimes you’ll already have the album, know it’s more than decent, and then slowly become obsessed with it as you’re exposed to more and more thirty second snippets of perfection on the promo for a British TV channel’s winter programming.
And so it is with Ratatat – enough of the opening of ‘Gettysburg’, followed by enough pathologically repetitive start-to-finish plays of Classics and their latest album LP3 while wandering the UK, and I’ve arrived at the Corner Hotel on May the 15th back home and barely expecting Evan Mast and Mike Stroud to be human, let alone disappointing. Quickly quenching my thirst with some frothy ones, I sit back while World’s End Press play, examining the crowd (not only but mostly because of the lack of anything exciting happening on stage). It would appear Ratatat are great bringer-togetherers, as it’s a healthy mix of punter, scenester, stoner and general music-lover, and it looks like it’s going to be a good time all round.
After staying upstairs during the next act, Qua, I make my way to the front-right of stage and wait. I'm positioned, thankfully, behind a couple shortypants alt.princesses and close to Mast's magic synths and keyboard, in a prime spot for hero worship. Before too long they're up on stage behind their instruments, and looking very prepared to blow Melbourne away for the second time this week. 'Shiller', LP3's slow-burning opener, proves that looks aren't always deceiving. As the set rolls on and the duo tear through admirably crisp, record-perfect renditions of 'Imperials', 'Lex', 'Montanita' and one of the best on LP3, 'Falcon Jab', it becomes abundantly clear that Ratatat are in fine form. Visually, as well, their performance could not be better – as Mast and Stroud thrash about on stage like bunnies with myxomatosis, an ornithological feast for the eyes powers the crowd through 'Bird Priest'. Colours, shapes and sounds are speeding us up when I know that all we want is for this evening to go on and on and on.
The roar of the increasingly-raucous audience at the growl that launches 'Wildcat' is a highlight of the show, and it sends the Corner around the bend. Following this, the last twenty minutes of Mast and Stroud’s set are a blur – I’m provided with a perfect rendition of ‘Gettysburg’, and then, an absolutely magnificent, very sexy, version of 'Shempi ' that launches every body and every set of arms towards the ceiling. Ratatat, Ratatat, Ratatat. Could this night have been any better? Well, no, not really. But then it did get a little bit better, as the duo walked out to rapturous applause, took hold of their instruments once more, and encored with ‘Seventeen Years’, their first-ever single and a long-standing favourite for the band’s fans. Then they’re off stage, we’re out the door, I’m in a daze, I’m blissful, I’m shocked. There was something heavenly, something ethereal happening tonight – Mast and Stroud’s performance was a truly religious experience. That or I was really drunk. Either way, I dare say I’ve never left a show as stunned at an act’s absolute brilliance as when I walked out of the Corner after Ratatat came to town.
© Joseph Comer, 2009.