By Sarah Tachau
I saw my high school English teacher moonwalk on stage while shredding his traffic cone-orange Fender last night. Maybe Mr. Miller wasn’t there in the flesh, but the leather newsboy cap, blazer, and Blundstones combo donned by Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s Alec Ounsworth reasonably prompted my hallucinations.
The Brooklyn and Philadelphia-based indie rock band unveiled the second leg of their Clap Your Hands Say Yeah 20th Anniversary tour in St. Paul’s Amsterdam Bar and Hall last Friday, revitalizing their debut album alongside several fan favorites. The group was accompanied by fellow Philly band, Knifeplay, whose shoegaze setlist hypnotized the crowd with intricate, conversing riffs that slowly unraveled into explosive instrumentals, reminiscent of Slowdive.
Clap Your Hand Say Yeah (CYHSY) is no faker when it comes to the grainy authenticity of indie-rock. With a voice nasally smooth like dunes and lyrics that break the fourth wall, such as “now that everybody’s here, let me please have your attention,” Ounsworth did not tear down the curtain when he took stage. In fact, he casually walked out before his set to help soundcheck. The band has embodied the indie-rock genre since their debut erupted in 2005. Their popularity was largely owed to MP3 blogs, pioneering the brief but vibrant subgenre of “blog-rock.” Yet the independent model is in CYHSY’s blood– their debut album was recorded for a budget of less than $5,000, with CD distribution in the hands of band members. While tuning, Ounsworth’s banter revealed his criticism of Bowie’s limo lifestyle as unrepresentative of the genre. “I do crack then drive,” he mocked.
On Friday, CYHSY was performing their debut, self-titled album, the gem of their career before the group “fell off,” according to critics. In youthful spirit, CYHSY loosened limbs as they built mountains from bass, repetitive synths, and racing guitar. Ounsworth’s distinct, swelling vocals snagged on longings, complaints, and protests. Before running through the entirety of their debut record, CYHSY resuscitated “Some Loud Thunder” from their 2007 album of the same title. The recorded track is foamed over in static, while the vocals scratch their way to the surface. Bathed in the indigo lights, Ounsworth’s group picked the song to pieces, polishing each rhythm for a crisp, gradual climb into an LCD Soundsystem-esque outro. Buzzing synths reverberated through bones, hinting that the floor would drop at any minute. If I had recorded the song I would download it– MP3 style– and share it with you all.
Keeping the energy high, “Let the Cool Goddess Rust Away” followed, pattering the walls with thick bass drums, running toward a resolution. Ounsworth’s voice climbed over and under the instrumentals in a whiny language of his own. Unable to discern the passionate, slurred words, hardly one jean jacket-wearing millennial sung along. Instead, the rhythm spurred a wave of motion that carried through the ringing of “Over and Over Again (Lost and Found).” Flailing bodies sweated sweet dread for success that is “so forbidding.” In synchrony, CYHSY and the crowd rattled off “You look like David Bowie but you’ve nothing new to show me.”
The energy only rose as keyboardist Robbie Guertin skipped into the gritty, shimmering synths of “The Skin of My Yellow Country Teeth.” In CYHSY fashion, the layering of drums and guitars rippled through the room, swaying arms and bobbing knees. One fan, the first to stake out a front row spot, mimed Ounsworth’s rapid strumming. While his lyrics were not quite as voice cracking as they are on the record, the wobbling guitar and the driving bass burst with energy. Between tracks, Ounsworth disclaimed that his mind was elsewhere, quickly self-correcting that maybe the audience shouldn’t know that. The debut album was second nature to the band; after all, they were on their second of two anniversary tours.
“Most people don’t know it, but this next one is a protest song,” Ounsworth disclaimed before revving up “Upon This Tidal Wave of Young Blood.” Under this light, the melty lyrics carried sharp satire. While his voice was, again, not quite as passionate as on the album, the outro’s repetitive “child stars” wound breathlessly through the room. After wrapping up Clap Your Hands Say Yeah’s most vibrant tracks– essentially everything but the interludes– the band left Ounsworth to perform what he credited as an “inside joke” to the debut, a cover of Johnny Thunders’ “You Can’t Put Your Arms Round a Memory.” The messenger-capped singer stripped back the classic to its raw nostalgia, questioning the vitality of CYHSY’s career gem.
To wrap up the show, the band dove into a few newer records, including a throbbing performance of “Fireproof” from their 2017 album, “The Tourist.” The stage burned with smooth improvisation from Guertin and bassist Tyler Sargent, while Ounsworth’s taffy-stretched vocals hinted at his David Byrne influence. In their “final song” of the evening, the band unleashed “Satan Said Dance.” The call and response of an off key “satan” rattled the room as Ounsworth hopped off stage and swam in the crowd.
Despite claiming an encore wouldn’t happen, Ounsworth summoned his band members back with a slow, climbing performance of “Where They Perform Miracles,” showcasing his intricate guitar skills. To cap off the show on the same energy they erupted with, CYHSY closed out with their 2017 track, “Better Off.” As I shuffled out of the venue, I overheard two rambunctious dads debating CYHSY vs The War on Drugs: a fitting end to the night.
