MFNW, Day One - Black Bananas at Dante's

I had heard of, but not actually heard, both of the openers at Dante's, and found myself really liking the first opener, Summer Cannibals.  However, I was in for a real disappointment with Black Bananas.

I don't know how to describe this train wreck of a performance.  The lead singer was obviously drunk - not in some glorious sex-and-drugs-and rock-and-roll kind of way, but in the stumbling down, incoherent manner that makes you want to avert your eyes.  Not only that, but she kept on drinking while on stage.  I often got the impression that one of the poor unfortunate homeless persons you see on Burnside outside of Dante's waiting for the Mission to open had somehow wandered into the club and up onto the stage, but it wasn't even that glamorous.

This may sound a little priggish, and I've seen plenty of musicians in various states of inebriation on stage before, but the music was incoherent and excessively loud (they seem to be one of those bands that's assumed that if you just play loud enough, it won't matter how poorly you play).  The vocals were rarely audible and garbled when they were, and the stage banter between songs was even worse, consisting of slurred words and sentences that just trailed off into nothing. ("Really?. . . I just . . . you . . . whatever . . .").

I don't like writing bad reviews and generally try to avoid being negative here, but I almost feel like some sort of intervention is called for in this case.  Some close friends and family of this band needs to sit them down and tell them to "Stop" right now.  Not stop drinking - that's cool, go for it.  But stop making music.  You're awful.  Just stop it.  

Maybe they just had an off night.  Maybe I just don't "get" their sound.  Portland's generally reliable Willamette Weekly described Black Bananas as "some of the most unhinged, funky rock around, akin to the work of ’70s icons like Betty Davis and Parliament."  I didn't hear it, but maybe it was just the heat in Dante's that was just getting to me.

Vindicating Post-Script:  A reviewer in the generally reliable Willamette Weekly who covered the show wrote, "I split at the halfway point of Joey Bada$$ to catch the last few songs of Black Bananas. I find what looks like the cast of Workaholics grinding out an incomprehensible racket, while Jennifer Herrema ambles around the stage in a junkie stupor. The album is loud and funky. Live, it’s just loud. I’m kind of disappointed."