The All-American Rejects came roaring into town yesterday and that sound you just heard was three thousand teenage girls squealing with glee and longing.
I know I’m not this band’s target audience, but I wanted to check out what the kids are listening to these days (”get off my lawn!”). Thus started a journey filled with desolation, despair and ultimately, redemption.
I don’t know who kicked things off. The goddamn show started at 5pm. How the fuck was I supposed to get to Maplewood by 5pm on a Monday night? All things considered, I think getting there by 6 was pretty good. I was just in time to see Ace Enders get things moving with their short set of simple, catchy-pop rock. Apparently their full name is Ace Enders and a Million Different People but I’m just going to pretend that’s not the case because I’m close to liking these guys. They spread some positive vibes around and got the crowd singing along to their hippy lyrics about love and … well, love.
I give them points for trying, but I resented the way they had to basically draw a map to their songs’ meanings for their audience. Then again, these guys know their demographic. Ace Ender’s songs are no big stretch either and had me reaching for my drink until I saw the big, sloppy grin on their drummer’s face. That kind of enthusiasm is infectious, even from 30 rows back. They need to carve out their own space musically, though. One of their pre-choruses sounded like it was directly lifted from the All-American Rejects. It was nice of the Rejects to take Ace Enders out on tour instead of punching them in the face.
Next up: Shiny Toy Guns who were notable for making me want to destroy their fancy equipment to see if they can still make music without needing to wait for the click track to kick in. Nothing says rock’n'roll like waiting for the soundman to start the track so the drummer can jump in. Yay. Such are the pitfalls of electro-pop rock I suppose.
The band was co-fronted by Blondie-lookalike Sisely Treasure and guitarist Chad Petree, who apparently has a fucking strobe light embedded in his Gibson SG. Don’t ask me why. Maybe he pulls a separate pay check as a lighting technician.
Despite the hot-chick-as-lead-singer thing, the band does not exactly ooze sex onstage. In fact, Sisely wisely wore jean-shorts under her black skirt which ended up being a good idea as the skirt quickly resembled cummerbund because of her wild dancing antics. Things were looking a little too G-rated for my tastes until the Rejects came on stage.
The headliners are fronted by Tyler Ritter and I was pleasantly surprised by what a magnetic front-man he is. He hails from the Mick Jagger school of androgynous lead singers who can make girls’ toes curl with desire for a vaguely fey guy. Tyler quickly had daughters and mothers united in lust, but also won over the few hipsters with his ironic banter and copious cursing. I think he referred to every one of his bandmates as a motherfucker at some point through the night. As he’s about as threatening as a mouseketeer they took this in stride and so did the mothers in the audience.
The band has good songs, there’s no denying it. They mostly sound the same, but they’ve got a formula that works and they don’t hide it. Songs like “Gives You Hell” and “Move Along” are immediately catchy and surprisingly happy. I’ve avoided using the dreaded E-word (emo) for a reason — these guys are not emo. They’re too damn happy! There’s no wallowing in sorrow at an AAR show, but there is a self-destructive streak that caught me by surprise.
Just when I was about to write the youth of today’s idea of rock’n'roll off as about as rebellious as a church picnic, the crowd started to raise some hell. Crowd surfers erupted in the pit and the girl next to me tried to climb onto the stage. When security dragged her back down she refused to stand up and had to be physically removed from the building; outside there were cop cars with lights flashing and sullen occupants in the back seat. Clearly, a good time was had by all.
I was worried for a bit there, but as I was leaving a saw a girl with the word Redemption stenciled across her chest. For me, finding out that Minnesota-nice kids still like to raise hell at an all ages show was a redemption — and a relief. Rock and roll lives. – Tim O’Regan
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