May 24–31, 2001

music

Bring the Noise

A clamorous escape to Chicago for the Noise Pop festival.

by Sam Adams

Noise Pop Chicago 2001

May 9-13, various locations, Chicago.

When you spend a frankly unhealthy portion of your life in sweaty, smoky Philadelphia rock clubs, traveling to another city to do the exact same thing might not exactly qualify as a vacation. But from May 9 through 13, it didn’t seem like there was any better place to be than Chicago’s Noise Pop festival (now in its ninth year, and second in the Windy City). True, unlike such festivals as Terrastock or Transmissions, you’d have been hard-pressed to find a common trait linking the festival’s four dozen acts, which ranged from jazzman Ken Vandermark to kraut rockers Autechre. But if the Noise Pop banner was just an excuse to get such acts as Yo La Tengo, Goldfrapp, Couch, Damon and Naomi, Jah Wobble and the Bellrays to spend some time in the Windy City, then more power to ’em.

Noise Pop’s biggest newsmaker was snagging a reunited Television. Prompted by the invitation of Chicago’s Tortoise, who were curating this year’s British All Tomorrow’s Parties festival, the guitar gods of the New York new wave scene decided to play their first show since their previous 1992 reunion. A few more European shows were added, but only a single U.S. date, which fell on Noise Pop’s second night. I’d heard from folks who caught the band’s last shows that it was if they hadn’t missed a day, so there wasn’t much chance of me dropping the ball this time.

The band took the stage instruments in hand, which seemed awfully punk rock until the audience realized we’d have to spend five breathless minutes waiting while Tom Verlaine hooked up his various effects pedals. (Richard Lloyd followed suit by spending most of the set’s penultimate song restringing his guitar, while Verlaine improvised an extended solo.) "We bought new clothes just for this," Verlaine joked of the scraggly foursome, who mostly looked like they’d just crawled out of bed. But if they never hit the dazzling precision evidenced on their three studio LPs, Television made up for it with blistering fretwork and the kind of dynamic guitar interplay that stands as their contribution to r’n’r history. As a special highlight, the band dusted off "Little Johnny Jewel," their very first single, here expanded to a 15-minute monster akin to the version on their live The Blow-Up. Closing out the set with a cover of "Psychotic Reaction" which offered little beyond the joy of recognition, the band still pleased with a generous set list which nailed nearly every fan favorite.

(Noise Pop’s other oldies act, Television contemporaries Suicide, were notable mainly for performing one of the loudest sets in the history of creation. Even at the back of the monstrous Double Door, Martin Rev’s synthesizer whomps made fillings quake in teeth. The volume was bearable in the bathroom, at least.)

As for newer acts, Yo La Tengo once again showed why they’re the greatest live act on the planet, playing an opening night set with guest percussionist Susie Ibarra. Though she was invasive on some of the night’s quieter numbers, Ibarra’s cymbals and shakers brought the climactic "Blue Line Swinger" to new heights. Though Eleventh Dream Day’s opening set was marred by sound which only coalesced halfway through (hometown heroes don’t get a sound check?), guitarist/singer Rick Rizzo returned for YLT’s encore of Neil Young’s "Time Fades Away." Rizzo’s wife Janet Beveridge Bean fomented one of the festival’s most memorable images when, after emerging from the wings to embrace her hubby mid-song, she stepped down, and Rizzo’s pants quickly followed suit. Despite limited mobility and a fairly drab pair of boxer shorts, Rizzo still pulled off an electrifying solo before returning his trousers to their upright and locked position.

Of course, as with any festival, hard choices had to be made, and promising bands skipped. (I made things worse by playing hooky Friday night and seeing Jon Langford and the Pine Valley Cosmonauts’ non-Noise Pop gig.) Newcomers Goldfrapp impressed with their Björk-meets-Maria-Callas sound, while hometown duo Neko Case and Joey Burns delivered an amiably drunken set which found Case repeatedly wishing the crowd a "Happy Easter." Preston School of Industry, Scott Kannenberg’s new gig, proved only the second-most Pavement-derivative band of the weekend; locals Tenki snagged that prize. And local trio We Ragazzi whipped up a frenzied storm of wiry, new wave Stonesy rock, though most of the packed Empty Bottle house seemed to be waiting for the amusing but awful Evil Beaver (think the bad parts of Betty Whitetrash meet the bad parts of Swisher). What did it all add up to? Damned if I know. Four days, five clubs, 16 bands (or slivers thereof). A little noise, a little pop: Let’s leave it at that.