On Monday at 8 p.m., Grinnell Concerts will host one of the most anticipated shows of the semester as Weaves, Fear of Men and Mitski bring magic to Gardner Lounge.
Toronto art rock foursome Weaves released their debut self-titled album earlier this year. The opening track “Tick” combines distorted sliding guitar parts with Jasmyn Burke’s powerful vocals, all under lo-fi fuzz. On “Sentence,” their polished sound is reminiscent of the indie rock popular during its burst in the mid-to-late 2000s. It’s sweet and poppy, but with a post-punk edge, similar to bands from this era such as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs. However, the end of the song dissolves into sludgy chaos. It’s when Weaves is at their grungiest that they set themselves apart from other art rock. Their song “One More” perfectly illustrates their punk influence. Within a delightful mess of fuzz and noise, spoken vocals build almost to a scream, but stop just short of it. Even in moments of chaos, the band maintains a polished control.
Brighton-based band Fear of Men creates a different controlled sound in their unique dream pop. Their music is driven by Jess Weiss’s ethereal voice that cuts through hazy layers of synths with intense clarity. While recording their second album “Fall Forever,” they became increasingly interested in creating music with computers. The album begins with “Vesta,” which sounds like a futuristic version of a Gregorian chant, as it combines computer sounds with Weiss’s resonating voice. This song perfectly sets the tone for the album, which, even in its most pop moments, has a haunting darkness to it.
Mitski, who studied at the SUNY Purchase Conservatory of Music, is the sole writer of her music which encompasses a diverse range of sounds. On “Once More to See You” off of her fourth and newest album “Puberty 2,” she creates a deep sense of longing as she croons over slow, dragging drums and a humming organ. In contrast, on “My Body’s Made of Crushed Little Stars,” her voice sounds urgent as she belts over a tinny guitar. Each of her songs, whether it’s slow and ambient, or a driving indie rock jam like “Townie,” is backed by a forceful power.
When Mitski performs, it doesn’t feel like she’s trying to put on a big show—she’s trying to put on a meaningful show. She’s a machine as she stands mostly still and skillfully plays the bass. But she’s also powerfully human, nourishing every note with her mesmerizing voice. Her songs feel deeply emotive and personal. Even when she is belting out the lyrics to one of her more aggressive songs, like the chorus to “Your Best American Girl,” it still feels intimate, as if she’s sharing something special with you. Even when she’s wailing, she’s whispering in your ear, confiding in you and somehow allowing you to confide in her.
This show has the potential to make you dance, dream and cry (in a good way). You won’t want to miss it.
