Opener: The Black Lips

I’ll admit that I think the Raconteurs are brilliant. I have both their albums in heavy rotation on my ipod, so I went into the concert at Manhattan’s Terminal 5 knowing all their songs and most of the lyrics. Their songs always tell a story, sometimes with an ending you don’t see coming. We scored a great view up on the third level, looking over the shoulders of some bored people leaning over the railing. The screens were dependably grainy, so I was glad for the view. All in all, the show delivered few surprises, just a rock solid performance. Jack and Co. didn’t break till well over an hour into the show, consistently flowing from one song into another. Throughout the show, Brendan Benson was as subdued as Jack White was energized. Maybe that’s what makes them work so well together.

The Raconteurs opened with the title track of their new album, “Consoler of the Lonely” a schizophrenic song that also opens the CD. Like much of their music, “Consoler” takes what could have been an average rock song and adds a twist, alternating between two drastically different tempos and styles. A few songs later, Jack White took over on the keyboard for one of my favorite tracks, “You Don\”t Understand Me,” followed immediately by “Top Yourself,” a song of spurned love. Benson sang the last verse softly, over subdued, sustained chords, which set up the cowboy-styled opening of “Switch and the Spur.” On the CD, I didn’t enjoy that track that much; it feels a little too corny. But performed live, it connected in a way that I never expected, and it featured a thrilling guitar solo by White just before the final section.

When the band transitioned into “Intimate Secretary,” one of the goofier tracks on the first album, I was disappointed by the blandness of the performance. There was no contrast between sections, making the song one long string of strange lyrics and sustained volume. It was followed by “Old Enough,” a country-tinged track thanks to the surprising addition of violin to the band\”s musical texture.

The excitement of “Old Enough” led into a four-song section which was the peak of the whole show. It started out with a fabulous rendition of “Rich Kid Blues,” with long slow breaks after each fast section, leading into Benson’s slow, sweet vocals. A droning bass line became a downright creepy version of “Level,” with Benson and White trading extended solos. The final solo guitar line turned into a non-syncopated version of the intro to “Steady as She Goes,” the monster hit off the Raconteurs first album. Benson led the song with guitar solos in every break. The zenith of the whole show was a frenetic and powerful performance of their psychedelic blues track, “Blue Veins.” White’s guitar solo was almost overwhelming in its emotion, but he brought it down to a soft level before coming back crashing loud. White’s vocals and guitar playing were so over the top, he nearly knocked over an amp during an awesome extended coda that closed the song.

That was the sole break in their performance, with the roadies running around the stage putting everything back in place. The crowd was so energized after “Blue Veins,” they didn’t stop clapping and cheering the entire 10 minutes the band was off-stage. When they came back to finish up their set, they came out with “Broken Boy Soldier,” White frequently using a voice box set up near the back of the stage. I liked his use of the voice box (and what I think was a delay button hooked up to it), there was for no apparent reason a mirror attached to the setup. When he used the voice box, he turned his back to the audience and stared in the mirror. (My friend and I spent most of the walk home discussing various theories, most of them centering around narcissism and just plain old weirdness.)

The first words anyone spoke to the audience were from Jack, asking “Everything all right?” When the crowd cheered in response, the band broke into a sped-up version of “Salute Your Solution.” I thought it was an excellent decision, as the uptempo opening contrasted more with the slow sections contrast and made the song much more exciting. “Many Shades of Black” followed–hands-down my favorite on the new CD–but without the horns featured on the album, it lacked energy.

The show closed with “Carolina Drama,” a brave choice given how mellow its ending is. Most bands save their most exciting song or biggest hit for the ending, but the Raconteurs chose a slow, intense story to end their set. It gave the show a lot of closure, though, and we walked out feeling like we’d gotten more than our money’s worth.

Setlist
Consoler Of The Lonely
Hold Up
You Don’t Understand Me
Top Yourself
Switch And The Spur
Intimate Secretary
Old Enough
Together
Rich Kid Blues
Level
Steady As She Goes
Blue Veins
Broken Boy Soldier
Salute Your Solution
Many Shades Of Black
Carolina Drama

The Black Lips from Georgia opened the show, and their potentially interesting music was overshadowed by the frenetic-and occasionally revolting-stage antics of their guitarist. While the band played songs which all seemed to come off a ’50s compilation CD, the guitarist would frantically whip around the stage performing all the tricks he could think of. It’s fine to have one or two gimmicks, but he did the same thing for every song: he’d knock over his mic stand and catch it with his foot before it hit the ground; he’d strum over his head or with his tongue (are we back in the ’80s now?); and worst of all, he’d spit a huge wad of phlegm into the air and-brace yourself-catch it in his mouth. A middle school gross out trick at best, he did it over and over again throughout the set. Maybe that’s his way of amping up the routine.

Their music was an updated version of ’50s chord progressions and drumbeats, played louder and faster and crunchier for a modern audience. The annoying guitarist also played vocalist on a few numbers, singing in an odd imitation of Bob Dylan, both in terms of the timbre of his voice and general incomprehensibility. I think in a smaller venue or perhaps on CD, I might have enjoyed their music, but I was too distracted by the mediocre performance.

it is unfair to blame my mild disappointment in them on them because I had built them up unreasonably in my head and created a sound for them that didn\”t really exist, I had filled in all of the fuzz from the first time I saw them with really bad sound with this fantastic original sound, so they didn\”t have on their old ranchero clothes and they are not bizarre creening country but pretty straightforward 60s garage rock, they are very rounded and irresistibly danceable, there is some country in there and maybe old-school rockabilly, the voice remains though and is the key to their originality, very good band

also an 80s British rockabilly classic but more psychobilly than The Rockats, lead singer looked incongruently like a surfer in his board shorts and cropped hair and then they said that they live in California now, energetic and polished, clean cut self-composed guy turned out the be their phenomenal guitarist, very entertained by the most enthusiastic mosh pit I\”d seen in a long time, engaging very high-quality band

old-timey take your grandma to the sockhop rockabilly, 80s British band, rockabilly classic, everybody and their mother (literally) in the crowd was dancing, charming, Lonesome Spurs guitarist was a member, the 40-something pasty British upright bassist ought not have taken off his shirt but seemed a dear anyway with his enthusiasm

the lead singer has more personality in his skinny left leg than a whole lineup of bands, he has a wealth of antics to accompany his Tennessee singing and harmonicasizing, had a more rootsy sound than the Koffin Kats, the close-to-death guitarist was not there but was being filled in for by the guitarist from the Jesus Lizard, the upright bassist and drummer are excellent as well

worked very hard to put on a crazy show, psycho psycho-billy, guy on the huge stainless steel upright bass beat himself on the forehead with something mid-show and bled the rest of the show – possibly beat himself with a fake-blood packet – despite his seeming insanity he always concluded songs with a polite “Thank you very much for coming”, loved the multi-level multi-directional multi-colored mohawked guitarist for some reason, also impassioned and would turn profile to crowd and look up and scrunch his face up when it was time for a cappella punk or oi choruses, their stage interplay made them seem like good friends and very enjoyable show on the whole

three 2-dimensional girls from Australia, the craziest hairdos I done ever seen – especially the shellacked green bangs, girl cock-rock with lame lyrics such as “freedom of choice,” reminded me of Lita Ford except I don’t listen to her enough to say, only really liked them when the singer would put on a deep voice and sound a little gothic, did like the matte nail polish colored guitars

the alter ego of Chili Cold Blood (more country and less funk) but not as different as expected, still slick fast and electric, lots of Southern rock flavor, I really like these guys no matter what band they are for the night

a fat man and a little boy on guitar, mandolin, banjo, etc., old timey bluegrass

hard-hitting straightforward rock-metal, nothing distinctive

very disappointingly the sound went kaput with them and they\”re supposed to be one of the best local bands right now, the vocals weren\”t turned up enough, wearing old fashioned ranchero wear, from what I could hear they were very appealing, slow shuffling country-infused rock with creening off kilter vocals and flat chords, reminded me of a more Americana Gun Club, innocent darkness

seemed like they were going to be good with their bouncy drums and jangly guitars but just got boring, had the feeling of a cover band, 60s

great: intense and interesting, jazz art rock, tangential rock with lead vocalist playing the sax at times, got a little more direct as they kept playing, Rockboy described as the real New Wave before it became pop