"If you've got problems/ why don't you go solve them?" That was the glossily resonant lyric from "Nothing To Worry About" Monday night as Peter Bjorn and John played a 75-minute, mostly crowd-pleasing set at Webster Hall. The best solution the band came up with for the song, however, was Philly MC Spank Rock, who busted out mid-jam to twirl in a circle, flip his cap around, drop a largely indecipherable verse and briskly strut off stage.
That, of course, happened because this was PB&J's "Tenth Anniversary Tour," a conceit of "special guests and rare songs" that seemed to materialize only in the last week or so, despite the current jaunt through the U.S. having been announced and two months ago. The show, originally booked at Bowery's bigger Terminal 5, got downgraded to the East Village nightclub due to lukewarm ticket sales, and didn't quite fill up.
The attendees that did make it—a mix of fresh-faced freshman up front and late-twenties boozers back by the bar—were treated to further guest spots from Andrew WK (a spazzy anti-interpretive dance during "It Don't Move Me"; he offered no musical input) and former Chavez guitarist Matt Sweeney, who spun out high-up-the-neck melodic circles from his axe on "People They Know."
"People" was among the "rare" songs the Swedish trio busted out, and even got a wince worthy intro from Bjorn, who felt the need to explain why all the kids were about to be treated to a pre-Writer's Block tune. The upbeat number sounded inspired, but one of the drunk chicks next to me who'd been woooooooing an irrational amount over the course of the evening started yawning.
Of course, the crowd went ecstatic for the hits, exploding into a sustained cheer for "Young Folks," though it ultimately hurt the whistle-and-shuffle detachment of PB&J's breakout single, its dynamics hindered by an audience lust for familiarity, the boys forced to play full force where restraint might have been a subtler weapon.
The saddest truth of all is that the fellas put in a genuinely good performance—all for an audience that's seemingly on the wane. Peter Moren, in particularly, is a true showman, pulling out Townsend pinwheels during the codas, bounding across the stage one footedly while he shreds, even nailing a rigorous harmonica solo that would shame the seemingly untrained Hohner-blowing dude from Crystal Stilts.
It's all Blogotics, perhaps. I saw the but two-year old Passion Pit rock Pianos last summer; in January they'll be doing three nights at Terminal 5. Peter Bjorn And John have had a decade to attempt the slow rise, instead they had an Internet bump and (inevitable?) recession. The finale, in a true nod to a well-paced set list, was the best thing they played all night: "Objects Of My Affection" was a blast of wrist-injuring guitar chords, with Moren making another powerful inquiry. "And the question is," he asked aloud, "Was I more alive then/ than I am now?"
Photo by Kyle Dean Reinford
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