Ah, yes, the Warfield. It's a cozy little venue, and I had an amazing time seeing Underworld. Unfortunately, I had to sit, or stand, rather, through Paul Oakenfold first.
There are a number of his fans still out there, and I can understand why, at some point in time, people might have enjoyed his music and his stage performance. But why ever would anyone choose to see him anymore? He has the same visual setup he has had for the past five years, and I do mean exactly the same, and his music has always been a stale puppet of clearly manufactured energy about as deep as a parking lot puddle.
There were a few moments when I found myself grabbing hold of the connection the people had with his performance, and it was nice to feel the rise as tracks hit their peak here and there. But trance has never been on my list of druthers, and as I sat there realizing I was watching the same floating woman as I had seen back in 2002 when Oakenfold performed after the Chems, I realized that the man was nothing more than a fish out of water gasping for his last breath. The tragedy is sometimes people still drip water over the poor guy giving him the illusion he can still swim.
But on to Underworld.
Immediately this energy entered into the building when they took the stage, but they definitely started off slow. Their performance of Crocidile was fairly good and Leutin was a nice starter, but I wanted them to jump right into it. Regardless of what I wanted, though, I can say with certainty that they definitely have their own thing going on. Take really great, genre defining house and mix in an experimental installment of performance art. Pause for self-reflexive moments and absolute silliness from time to time, and add a few dashes of nostalgia.
There is a certain absurdity to Karl Hyde, the vocalist, but he's sort of like the little brother who you just have to love, even if he's a little annoying. I have to give him credit for pushing the direction of the performance on-stage, because as with all electronic music, it can be very trying to get the crowd to feel like it's little more than a DJ set. But he's quite the showman in his little-kid sort of way.
My favorite moment was him taking a camera and holding it to his own face while singing King of Snake, so all you saw on the huge panoramic screen was a very large face of sweaty Karl... and that could sound so gross to so many people for a variety of reasons...
Back to Underworld. For those of you that know them, they reversed Rez/Cowgirl so that it became Cowgirl/Rez, which I loved. Kittens was definitely a high point, and Dirty was great. As expected, they brought the house down with Born Slippy, and that moment will leave a mark in my mind which will not be soon forgotten.
Where Underworld succeeded was creating an amazing space where even the folks in the balcony were out of their seats riding the Rez waves, and everyone felt connected. Where they failed, it ended up being a bit too experimental, and you felt like maybe the boys should have shown up for practice more often than they did. Visuals were simple, nothing extraordinary, but they worked. And sometimes they worked extremely well.
Underworld was one electronic act I've been waiting years to see, and they did not disappoint. But, of course, all I have to do is wait less than a month and I will be screaming the praises of TomnEd. In the meantime, thanks to the three guys who moved San Francisco in a very good way tonight.