It is fitting, really, for Cloud Cult and Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s to share a stage. Both bands are big, with seven and eight members respectively, both feature unique instrumentation, and both throw interesting on-goings into their live shows. Naturally, the marriage of the two was an interesting blend of optimistic experimentation and despairing melody.
Enter Cloud Cult.
They’re definitely an interesting band. Cloud Cult started out as the musical project of Craig Minowa, an organic farmer who, in this particular show, walked onstage wearing what looked like a giant, glitzy sleep mask on his forehead. Their albums include Advice from the Happy Hippopotamus and The Meaning of 8, a lengthy tribute and exploration of the single digit, and their newest release, Feel Good Ghosts (Tea-Partying Through Tornadoes).
Watching the band set up raised both my expectations and my right eyebrow. Something about a string section (in this case, a violin and cello) lends immediate credibility to any group’s live show. But when I saw a man in a fedora setting up a canvas and paints onstage, I was a little confused. That was until I learned from some of the fans that the trumpet player completes a painting by the end of every show which the band then auctions off. I like the idea so much that I’m loath to call it a gimmick.
The show opened slowly, but the passion and skill of the string section’s Shannon Frid and Sarah Young woke up the audience and favorites such as “Chemicals Collide” brought them to uproarious applause.
Minowa’s incredible musicianship elevated the performance from great to spectacular and affirmed his position as the group’s driving force. His unique singing voice, contributing to the boyish charm of a number of his lyrics, held up perfectly live. But during the rare smatterings of speech between songs he never failed to remind the audience that Cloud Cult is a Minnesotan band; you couldn’t help but smile at his salute to “Margöt and the Nuclear Sö and Sös.”
The seamless collaboration between band mates and the diversity of both musical and visual accompaniment made it even easier to connect with the mood of the music, which ranged from a youth’s indignation (“Million Things”) to determined, driving intensity (“Take Your Medicine”) to the triumphant serenity of the closing song, “Everybody Here is a Cloud.” The Cult put on a truly wonderful show.
Finally, Margot and the Nuclear So and So’s took the stage. A note: there is no one in Margot actually named Margot; the name was chosen as a reference to The Royal Tenenbaums.
Upon his stage entrance, Margot’s lead singer and songwriter, Richard Edwards, prince of melancholia, immediately brought the mood back down from Cloud Cult’s hopeful, visionary balladry to the depths of despair with the equally bleak “A Sea Chanty of Sorts” and “At the Carnival.” It’s unclear why they chose to open like they did, but it put a damper on their performance that took a while to shake off. Morale aside, all Margot songs showcase the band’s complexity: a piano, two guitars and a bass, two percussionists (one of whom uses a suitcase, a 10-gallon jug and a cinder block as instruments), a brass player and a violinist who plays lap steel all mesh well into one musical force.
The subsequent performances did little to raise the concert out of its funk. They’re good songs, but the placement was flawed — there has to be a sense of movement and progression over the course of a concert, and Margot was stuck in stagnancy early on. The ball eventually got rolling, albeit slowly.
Edwards joked wryly with the audience in his trademark slurred drawl. “Some of the people in charge sat down with me and said ‘Look, we like your music, but you’re not looking a few select people in the audience in the eyes throughout the show or asking everybody how they’re doing,’ so I’m gonna do that after every song now.” With the singer’s detached and depressed persona, the joke worked, but the appeal and humor were lost in the show’s slow start.
It was the antics of Casey Tennis, the percussionist with the 10-gallon jug, et. al., that saved the show. He walked onstage covered in war paint, arms outstretched and sticks held high. With every song, Tennis performed a new interpretive dance, even as he deftly beat a tattoo on whatever the occasion called for. During the downers, we saw Casey the Sad Clown; Casey the Flamboyant emerged during the more upbeat ones.
Late in the show, a number of Margot’s true gems rose to the surface. Songs like “Skeleton Key” and “Vampires in Blue Dresses” gave way to the whole crowd singing along to the wonderfully pleading “Broadripple is Burning!” By the time the band played the closing song, “As Tall as Cliffs,” everyone was clearly having a good time. During the encore, Edwards played a beautiful (and very tongue-in-cheek) new song about a girl named Allison, followed by “Quiet As a Mouse,” one of the early songs that brought the band fame.
It was definitely quite a night. Cloud Cult has been known for their concerts since their inception in 1995, and they can certainly still deliver. On this go-round, they outshone their following act, whose organization took away from the quality of their show. Margot certainly has talent and potential — they just need some direction.