With their cerebral, ever-shifting arrangements, Group ofthe Altos couldn’t help but stand out on a bill otherwise dominated by simplechords,’80s covers and masturbation jokesthough at their size, the groupstands out on pretty much any bill. The sheer spectacle of dozen players packedonto the stage captured the attention of Stonefly’s otherwise chatty,distracted crowd, and the Altos held it for the entirety of their dramatic set.
There’s a tendency for even the best instrumental post-rockbands to fall back on certain patterns of loud/soft contrasts or build-ups andcrescendos, but the Altos eschew those easy tropes. Their compositions flowerin surprising ways, drawing not only from the magisterial swells or doomy riffsof post-rock mainstays like Sigur Rós or Pelican, but also from novel outsidemuses, like Celtic structures, tropical hues and drum-line percussive bombast.The group juxtaposed minimalist dirges against moments of uninhibited pomp andgrandeur, with a several songs erupting into euphoric, Broken SocialScene-styled fanfares.
The show was ostensibly Crappy Dracula’s album releaseparty, but by the time Crappy Dracula took the stage it was 1:45 a.m., leavingthem time for only a half hour set. That was probably for the best, sinceCrappy Dracula is best experienced in small doses.
On the group’s debut record, Almost,there’s a wit and tunefulness that offsets the sophomoric fa%uFFFDade of their lo-fipunk songs. In concert, though, the group is less interested in music than betweensong banterand during that banter, they’re concerned only with amusingthemselves and alienating the audience. They crack hammy jokes, repeat them tothe point of tedium, then berate the crowd for not paying attention. For thisshow, they posted to the side of the stage a barely legible list of 15 rulesthe audience was to abide by, then periodically shouted down the crowd forbreaking them.
