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The cicadas are ferocious tonight, more so than usual. Vicious, red-eyed bastards, how they swoop and smother. Don’t look now, there’s one on your shoulder. Should enough of them attack tonight, we are certain to give some business to the funeral homes that line this end of Western Avenue.
And that sound they emit – even more unnerving than Staind in Dolby stereo.
Inside, the Empty Bottle is living up to its adjectival descriptor. Guess everyone’s housebound & watching that lackluster Sopranos finale. “Dad, I want to join the army.” “Fuggeddaboutit, junior. Here, woik on this moooveee.” “Sure, okay.” Cut to shot of Morris the Cat glaring down Made Man #8. Meanwhile, in the nail-biting final diner scene, over on our family’s personal booth jukebox, Journey (naturally) soundtracks the flat dénouement.
Like sunspots, cicadas have a cyclical nature. They come around every 17 years. That’s eleven years longer than we’ve been waiting to see Electric Soft Parade. And get this – they’re not even headlining. They’re the support act. Preposterous. In the post-Strokes landscape of 2002, few albums arrived with the verve to match Holes in the Wall. Half a decade later, it still stands up. Wonder how much they’ll play from it tonight?
Answer: one song.
‘Silent to the Dark’ arrives mid-set, and without the extended, sparse mood piece outro. The White brother with no hair is wearing an Olde English T-shirt, bless. White Brother with Hair turns raconteur, telling us of the last time ESP was in Chicago. The band didn’t play, just changed planes. Ate some dodgy seafood. He passes on the advice that someone, at the time, had told him: “Don’t eat seafood in a landlocked state.” Noted. But we do have Lake Michigan, gentlemen. Yes, but would one want to ingest a fish from that body of water?
The bulk of tonight’s brief set comes from the Human Body EP. ‘Cold World’ connects. They air a couple off The American Adventure – ‘Lose Yr Frown’ but, alas, no ‘Bruxellisation.’ It’s over before it starts, as this is all just a prelude to the current focus of the Brothers White: BrakesBrakesBrakes (your headlinerheadlinerheadliner). Would love to, but we cannot stick around for that endeavor. The alleyway is teaming with the beasts. We’ve got a train to catch. We’ve got some cicadas to fight.
