hot chip @ house of blues, boston
Mary-Elisabeth Moore
The clean pink and black artwork of Why Make Sense? paired with its eye-rolling, synthy first single, Hurache Lights, was pleasing and sunny enough for me to prematurely file away Hot Chip’s latest release as one of my “albums of the summer”. Naturally then, when I saw that Hot Chip was playing in nearby Boston, I figured seeing them would be a fun way to jump into the season.
My friends and I arrived at the House of Blues just in time to catch the second half of Sinkane’s set. Sinkane’s album Mean Love definitely has great funky summer vibes, and made for a perfect opening act. The production has an electro rock meets reggae sound while keeping its melodies fresh and modern. Overtop, Sinkane sings cute lyrics in a falsetto like “I get high / When you walk on by”. Sinkane’s overall performance was perhaps a bit understated, but that’s to be expected from an opening act. He was modest and responded cheerfully to some playful heckling from the crowd.
Afterwards and right on time, Hot Chip’s own Alexis Taylor and co. nonchalantly filed in from stage left; dispersed; casually took up their instruments. My friend grabbed my shoulder. “I kind of hate them,” she said. I could understand why this was her immediate reaction.
Many of the band members were vaguely reminiscent of creepy uncles and annoying dads wearing their interpretation of cool kid fashion. Taylor was wearing a t-shirt that said “Priceless” with oversized white jeans rolled at the cuff with a cringe-worthy Mickey Mouse print. Goddard was wearing a planetary sweat suit and Tevas with brightly colored socks. Al Doyle looked like he had just come off an Eileen Fisher runway (for those unfamiliar with the Mom-targeted fashion label, this is not a compliment).
They constructed their onstage personas around a number of cheap colorful gimmicks, such as a small maraca in the shape of a corncob. Throughout the night they would randomly do this synchronized two-step march dance move – the kind of simple choreography that is expected only of cute boy bands. Sarah Jones, the relatively new female (!) drummer for Hot Chip, who’s played for bands like Bat for Lashes and Jon Hopkins, was undoubtedly the coolest on stage. Doyle and Smoughton took turns ‘interacting’ with her, slowly walking behind her and then just standing there smiling, or, even worse, standing in front of her during her solo and blocking her from view. Despite the unsettling midlife-crisis stage personas, musically Hot Chip could be any age. There are some telling hints of gerascophobia within their lyrics, however, such as: "My age says I'm an adult but some days my heart will not be told / Hearing teenage symphonies dancing through my head".
The set was a nice balance of old singles and hits off of their new record. They played fine, but the overall energy was lacking. This was especially surprising coming off of the release of an album like Why Make Sense?, which I had previously found to be dancey and energetic. Energy-wise, Hot Chip songs are typically more like a series of long steppes at different elevations, rather than demonstrating any sort of real uphill build or climax. This style of music tends, for me, to create a mood more similar to house music than the indie electro pop genre it actually falls under. House music and Hot Chip both, however, are obviously still very much buzzing and danceable – only more of a head-nodding, shape-throwing dance than a jumping in place one. That night, though, I wasn’t really moved to do either. Even during songs like Flutes or Need You Now, the energy was not only flat but very very low.
Altogether it was a disappointing performance, but based on some of the misogynistic undertones I sensed onstage as well as within the crowd around me, maybe I wasn’t a member of the targeted audience.