Patrick Stump at Joe’s Pub, 4.9.11
The opener. Riot in Paris, starts with a voiceover about complacency or something and then tells us that our future is here. Then loud rap starts, along with a guitar player who does the most crazy posturing and faces. It’s like he’s playing a guitar player in a movie. It’s a weird accompaniment to my caesar salad. But it’s a delicious salad.
The guitarist also handles some singing duties, but he’s way off key. This is thrown into relief when they start a song built around the chorus of “Under the Bridge.” Carly is pretty sure Gym Class Heroes already did this. She wikis it and, yup, they covered this on tour. The bass player is badass though, and his bass has lights up the neck.
They say that the next song is new if you were born in the 90s and “new-esque” if you were born in the 80s. The next song is built around a complete butchering of Lit’s “Miserable.” LIT! I didn’t know you could butcher it, but the choruses sound like drunk fratboys shouting it.
Oh God, the guitarist is shirtless. His look is kind of a hipster LL Cool J. No shirt, hat, white buffalo plaid boxerbriefs showing, too tight black jeans. I need this over.
I think your hypeman is not supposed to laugh while hyping you. Poor form!
Patrick has the longest leadup to an artist entering that I’ve seen in a while. There’s at least two minutes of jazz improvisation. It feels longer, but I’m being reasonable.
Jess’ summary of the show was “Boyfriend has moves.” After about five minutes, I concur. Patrick is jumping around and fondling the mic stand and generally being the most animated. Everyone on stage is wearing suits, but Patrick has accessorized with super puffy white boots.
First time I’ve ever seen someone play a keyboard while wearing a keytar.
The problem with a venue like Joe’s is that it’s a small room so the performer can hear the audience. Making it sort of awks when some boy yells from the back “I LOVE YOU, PATRICK.” Em-barassing.
Ooh, he does a cover of Prince’s “Nothing Compares 2 U” that makes some friends wilt. I also spy Virginia Tingley across the room looking besotted.
The music is not a hybrid of his old pop-punk and his beloved soul as I had expected, but rather a sort of young, fast, guitar-laden take on soul. This is the first album in the history of this blog that I will send to both of my parents.
The show is fun, high-energy and really technically proficient, which is unusual but exactly what I expected of Patrick Stump. I was worried about this show, but was not at all disappointed.