Dec 1

Dec 1 Review: They Might Be Giants at The Orange Peel

Right from the start, I have to give it up for Asheville’s They Might Be Giants fans. The sheer exuberance of the Nov. 19 crowd during the final night of TMBG’s three sold out shows at The Orange Peel was wild to behold and honestly one of my favorite parts of the evening. Sing-alongs, calls-and-responses, clapping (on beat!), and just the exhilarated cheers of recognition at the intro to each song made the show a truly rousing and enjoyable thing.

Not that the band itself was any sort of slouch — TMBG has embarked on what they have billed as The Big Show Tour, and the performance lived up to the name. Alongside founding members John Flansburgh and John Linnell, the lineup included longtime contributors Danny Weinkauf on bass, Dan Miller on guitar, and Marty Beller behind the drums, plus a three-part horn section held down by Mark Pender, Dan Lavine, and Stan Harrison. So that’s two Johns, three Dans, a Stan, plus a Mark and a Marty. With that many players, the sound was indeed big as billed. It is apparent that this band knows their turf and command of the stage, and despite their reputation for tongue-in-cheek quirk, the delivery was high-energy and impressively tight.

Now, I am by no stretch a TMBG completist. Give me the “Oh yeah? Name three songs” test, and I could pass. Ask me to name four and I’d have to work on it. And cramming for a TMBG show is a futile exercise — I mean, we’re talking about 23 studio albums. Since The Big Show promised a different set list each night, it really was luck of the draw, so for all intents and purposes, I went in “cold.”

But I was obviously in the vast minority, because the audience cued up along with each song as it began, and when Flansburgh announced the first set’s featured album was to be 2001’s Mink Car, just about everyone there yawped in approval (according to reports, nights one and two spotlighted 1994’s John Henry and 1992’s Apollo 18, respectively). Not to be boxed in by one album, the band’s second set promised to further explore its 40-year strong catalog.

The two Johns maintained their deadpan veneer throughout, with Linnell coaxing squawks, boops, and bedrock melodies from the keyboards as well as warm fuzzies from the accordion, and Flansburgh (wearing a nondescript windbreaker) on guitar or roaming the stage with his handheld mic.

Following an opener of “The Orange Peel,” written by the band in 2004 in honor of the venue, and “Older” from Long Tall Weekend, the band set quickly into Mink Car’s first track, “Bangs,” and then “Cyclops Rock,” with splashes and bursts of neon from the light show boosting the energy. And the full sound from this band quickly buried any expectations of the twee or adorkable.

The night was a series highpoints after highpoints, whether it was the crowd going bonkers at the cheese organ intro to “Twisting,” the shout-back call-and-response for “Drink,” the tra-la-la singalong on “Working Undercover for the Man,” or the impressive clap-along for the proto-punky pogo number “Damn Good Times.”

To be sure, we weren’t deprived of goofs, either, like the whole band freezing in place mid-song, drummer Beller standing out front during “Shoehorn with Teeth” to ring a bell precisely three ( non-predetermined) times, or even a backwards performance of “Sapphire Bullets of Pure Love” near the end of the first set, which would itself be played backwards (forwards?) via video recording at the opening of the second set. But none of these stunts distracted from or diminished the energetic, exacting delivery of the music. Whether it was Linnell’s screwy pitch bending and DJ scratching on “Wicked Little Critta” or the swagger of horns on “Authenticity Trip,” TMBG came out strong each time.

At encore time, TMBG pulled out “Birdhouse In Your Soul,” with a much fuller drive than the album version, and then wound out the second encore with the crowd bouncing and singing along for “Doctor Worm.”

I imagine that there was a point in the lives of many fans where they found TMBG and considered the band their little secret. TMBG’s off-kilter, absurdist, sometimes brainy, sometimes dark, sometimes funny — often all at the same time — brand of songwriting lends itself to such an underground cult status. But there has been an endurance to TMBG that makes them well known without really being mainstream. Like Douglas Adams books or Mystery Science Theater 3000, the band is a bit subversive and steeped in nerd cred. And they are beloved by many more than the Gen X set who (like me) first heard them in 1985 with their breakout song “Don’t Let’s Start.” Now four generations (at least) have had a chance to absorb, follow, and dig up the back catalogue of TMBG, and it sure seemed like all of them showed up that night at The Orange Peel.

If TMBG fandom starts with that lone discovery, witnessing all of these folks find each other at this downtown venue made for one of the more fun shows I’ve seen in quite a while.

(Lead photo and others by Jason Keefer - Nov. 17; photos by Richmond Smith - Nov. 19)