This usually works one of two ways:

1. You go to a show and witness an amazing performance by a band you don’t really know/don’t know at all. Then you buy the album/illegally download the songs like a scumbag only to discover that it sucks/is only kind of OK. 

…or…

2. You buy an album/illegally download songs like an assface and it totally sucks and you never go see this band live because, well why would you? But really it’s your loss because this band just happens to rock live.

Yes, this strange phenomenon happens every day, and here are a few prime examples:

FROG EYES

When I saw Frog Eyes last year at The Media Club, I knew exactly one song by them. This song was a little ditty called “Idle Songs,” which happens to kick serious ass. The show was incredible. Carey Mercer is an awesome storyteller/hilarious man/human explosion. He had us seriously wrapped around his little finger. It wasn’t long after that show that I went out and bought Tears of the Valedictorian, only to discover that it was… well, a mess. There was no structure and the songs (other than the above mentioned masterpiece, of course) didn’t seem to be much more than noise. Maybe I’m being harsh, but if that’s the case it’s only because I’m comparing this album to the awesome sweetness that was their show.

I thought it was weird that everyone seems to know who Frog Eyes is but the audience at the show was so sparse. I see now that it is a clear case of situation # 2 (as stated above). I find it unlikely that I’ll ever buy another Frog Eyes album. I’ll be seeing them again on June 29th, though.

120 DAYS

I saw 120 Days last spring when they opened for Ratatat at Richards on Richards, and it was kind of incredible. Their performance totally took over my entire body until I was mere particles floating through the universe, listening to some kick-ass tunes. I’m not even kidding. The next day I downloaded a bunch of their songs like the douchebag I am, and played them incessantly, trying desperately to recapture the moments of glory I felt while seeing God at their show. 

But, while their recorded songs were enough to remind me of how I felt listening to them in that crowded venue filled with Ratatat fans, the memory was fleeting and the magic was gone, replaced by the unsatisfying feeling of listening to music that is ALMOST good. Again, I am rating them harshly by comparing their studio recordings to their concert, but it just really isn’t the same AT ALL. I mean, most good bands are better live, but there’s really no excuse for being too much better live. What’s so hard about tapping that energy (at least somewhat) in the studio? Needless to say, though, I’d see them again in a second. Dear 120 Days, please PLEASE come back to Vancouver and take me on another tour to a galaxy far, far away.

Plus, they’re totally hot.

PORT O’BRIEN

I recently saw Port O’Brien opening for Someone Still Loves You, Boris Yeltsin (again, at The Media Club), and it was so great. The energy was unbelievable, and I’m pretty sure that (at least once during the performance), they actually caught on fire. In the middle of the show, the guys explained to the audience that we really had to buy their new CD, which they were selling for $10 instead of $12 due to their lack of Canadian change. I immediately walked over and said to the guy behind the table, “I want that.”

What I found, however, was not raw power and pots and pans, but… well, a lot of sappy emo songs about fishing. They weren’t bad, by any means, but they had a dull, dreary quality to them that was thankfully, if misleadingly absent from their live performance. I still like and listen to them, of course. But it’s really not the same. They are WAY better live. Srsly.

So that’s about it, my little buttercups. And remember, don’t judge an album by the concert, and certainly don’t disqualify a concert based on a bad/mediocre album. Sometimes great music can be found in the most unexpected places.