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Posted: 05/02/07
Third Eye Blind and Matt Nathanson hit a low
Babson Beavers not just angry, but rude and pushy
Jon Taylor l managing editor
jtaylor@smcvt.edu
Located in Babson Park, Mass., Babson College has a beautiful campus, with immaculately clean buildings, finely manicured grass, and achingly gorgeous wooded areas. Taking a walk at Babson feels like strolling through the inside of a brochure that’s aptly prepared by the school’s public relations office.
While all of this may seem fine and dandy, Babson is no place to go see any kind of concert — particularly one featuring mid-90s stalwarts Third Eye Blind, the usually reliable supporter Matt Nathanson, and opener The Upwelling.
This sold-out April 21 performance will inevitably go down as a show that could have produced a lot of fun and good times were it not for the 1500 rude and pushy students that Babson admitted onto their otherwise pristine campus.
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| Three of the four members of The Upwelling From left to right - Josh Ingber, Conor Heffernan, and Ari Ingber (Photo, Dave Fletcher) |
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As The Upwelling, a four-piece band hailing from Brooklyn, N.Y., took to the stage, awkwardly set up in the PepsiCo Pavillion at Babson (a glorified gym with no seating area; standing room only) it seemed as if the night could only get worse.
The Upwelling possesses the capability of producing some of the worst compositions that one may ever hear – live or otherwise. It isn’t so much music as it is an assault on the eardrums of the innocent.
Featuring two guitars, a few keyboards and drums, this band managed to cram as many awful, ill-sounding noises into seven of the worst songs ever written and performed in front of any audiences.
Lead singer and rhythm guitarist Ari Ingber looked pained as he showcased his interpretation of singing – a seemingly laborious combination of angst and constipation. As Ingber sang generic lines like “I can’t forgive, I can’t forget,” the only talented member of his band, lead guitarist and backup singer Lee Moretti, attacked complex melody lines and sweet harmonies.
Moretti, who was wearing a dress straight out of a Tim Burton movie, showed the Babson crowd that women can rock, even if they have the displeasure of being in exceedingly shitty bands (i.e. Hole, Blondie, and The Upwelling.)
Every Upwelling song followed this exact formula — slow intro, lame verse, loud chorus, Pink Floyd-style breakdown, half-time chorus, repeat — and began to wear on everyone in the audience with good taste after 10 minutes.
In the end, The Upwelling may be worth listening to, if you’ve ever been interested in hearing what happens when you scrape the bottom of the sonic barrel.
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Matt Nathanson has a filthy mouth.
Sometimes he says things that would cause mothers to cover the ears of their children. People who have never had the pleasure of seeing Nathanson in concert are alternately horrified and amused from the second he opens his mouth to greet the crowd.
For example, when Nathanson performed at Virginia’s Jammin’ Java in April 2006, he dropped seven F-bombs in under three minutes – on par with almost any pre-“Goodfellas” Martin Scorcese film.
Unfortunately, the usually pointed Nathanson had to use his sharp wit and crude language to entertain at Babson, instead of utilizing his striking lyricism and melodic songwriting to win over new fans.
In profane candor, a solo acoustic Nathanson greeted the Babson audience by discussing the college’s mascot – an incensed beaver.
“How can you go wrong when your mascot is a f**king angry beaver?”
This elicited cheers from all sections of the gym, but that’s where Nathanson’s comfort level slowly began to decline.
He quickly launched into a new song, “Car Crash,” and the audience’s volume swelled so much that Nathanson began emoting as fiercely as possible with his smooth tenor vocal. In any other scenario this enthusiastic kind of performance would be welcome, but Nathanson was singing loudly only to combat the level of the boorish and impolite college attendees’ voice, not to impress in any kind of musical fashion.
Because of this large quantity of noise, the usually energetic and pounding rhythm of “Car Crash” was reduced to sounding like a tepid cut from amateur’s night at a local coffeehouse. In a surprising and ill-advised choice, Nathanson followed “Car Crash” with another new song, “Come on Get Higher.” He introduced the song as an ode to “slap-and-tickle sex,” hoping to gain the attention of the masses.
Nathanson sometimes uses sexually-tinged banter to form a connection of familiarity with his audience, but throughout the Babson performance, it seemed like he was simply being dirty to pander to the youngish (and probably blurry) student minds in the gym.
The crowd only gave Nathanson the attention he deserved during his cover of the James classic “Laid.” Nathanson’s studio version of this track was featured on the soundtrack for the third “American Pie” flick, “American Wedding.” This was a sad commentary on the state of music today – the Babson kiddies would applaud The Upwelling’s horrific “music” and merely chuckle at Nathanson unless he was playing a cover.
The only high point of his depressingly short set was “Falling Apart,” a brand new song that Nathanson had only played twice before this show. Although the crowd made it difficult to absorb all of the emotion within the track, the lyrics still managed to soar over the audience’s static noise.
It’s never enough to stay still and hold you
To break loose and run the taste of you
Wild on my tongue
Am I no good to you now?
“Falling Apart” only further whetted the appetite of diehard Nathanson fans, who could be heard cheering loudly at the end of this heartbreakingly beautiful track, which will most likely make its way onto August’s “Some Mad Hope,” Nathanson’s first studio record since 2003’s “Beneath These Fireworks.”
This was one of Nathanson’s worst performances in recent memory, but it wasn’t entirely his own fault. Had Nathanson been backed by a band or been the only opener, he most likely would have received the warm welcome that he’s absolutely worthy of.
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After Nathanson’s abbreviated set, a good portion of the crowd moved back to make room for a surge of rambunctious Third Eye Blind fans that had seemingly come out of nowhere. These fans were insanely irritating and had no idea how to act at a concert, flailing their arms in people’s faces and pushing their way towards the stage without cause or concern for others.
Once Third Eye Blind came out, this blob of annoying students had distended to every edge of the rubber-floored pavilion, creating a bubble of muggy sweat and loud whining.
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| Third Eye Blind's latest release is a greatest hits collection. |
Soon, however, the unsettling feeling in the pavilion dissipated as the rockers attacked “Thanks a Lot,” a deep cut from their 1997 self-titled debut record. This high-energy song grabbed the crowd and didn’t let go, appeasing even the most uninterested members of the throng.
The band, which shot to radio stardom with huge hits like “Semi-Charmed Life” and “Jumper,” was reliably tight, having been together for little more than 10 years. Although members have come and gone, the ringmaster of Third Eye Blind, lead singer and songwriter Stephan Jenkins, has stayed put in his mid-90s world of catchy rap-rock style lyrics and unassuming melodic styling.
Jenkins powered the other members of Third Eye Blind through an intense two-hour set featuring all of its huge hits and some lesser-known tracks like “1000 Julys” and “I Want You.” Third Eye Blind’s varied array of songs may have been perfect were it not for the feeling that this formerly popular group was merely going through the motions.
During songs like “Graduate,” which had minor radio success on the soundtrack for the 1998 teen flick “Can’t Hardly Wait,” Jenkins seemed like he was either bored or just plain unenthusiastic that he was singing to a crowd of less than 2000. It’s definitely a downgrade from playing in 20,000-seat amphitheaters.
The only truly inspired moment of the set came when all of the band members unplugged and lounged on a couch located center stage, playing a stunning acoustic version of “Deep Inside of You.” This track, off of 1999’s “Blue,” has a simple melody and lyrics that cut to the heart of Jenkins’ emotional themes:
And I'd say that I'm sorry to you, I'm sorry to you
And I don't want to call you
But then I want to call you, 'cause I don't want to crush you
But I feel like crushing you
And it's true I took for granted you were with me
I breathe by your looks and you look right through me
Jenkins and his circus of pop-rock radio hits only came close to replicating this sentimental feeling again when he dedicated the band’s last song, “God of Wine,” to the victims of the tragic shooting at Virginia Tech University.
Third Eye Blind may never be able to achieve the popularity that it once had, and maybe Jenkins should realize that and continue touring with a bit more vigor.
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Overall, seeing Third Eye Blind and Matt Nathanson at Babson College was not worth the 20 bucks or the 3 1/2 hour drive. The disappointing sets from these usually wonderful musicians were not caused so much by the performers, but by the lame crowd of overzealous Babson students who couldn’t seem to get close enough to the stage to satisfy their star-hungry appetites.
Third Eye Blind deserves better. Matt Nathanson certainly deserves better. Maybe one day, they’ll have more respectful hosts.
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