Live Review: Mannequin Pussy, the spirit of the beehive, Pope, Trunkweed @ Lilly Trotter Tea Lounge, 12/12/16

Intrepid mysterious special guest star The Paper braved the cold and went to see a few good bands on the 12th, and the following is what transpired.

Homero had invited me to a fest at his house when I ran into him at Xenia's show last week but Monday night was too cold for yours truly to venture outside. Just kidding. It's hard for me to decline live music especially given the magnificent lineup. And I knew I made the right decision the moment I approached the house with a Black Lives Matter sign out on the front yard.

Parking in the District is an Olympic sport so I am sad that I missed the opening minutes of Trunkweed's set because it was definitely pleasing to the ear. The untiring drums and steady bass serve as a solid backdrop for smoky vocals. While I have exceedingly little patience for bands that tend to jam on (except Warpaint), when the Baltimore outfit flirted into said territory, I surprised myself when I kept nodding to the beat. Excellent appetizer to start the night.

With a brief commentary on not getting a college degree, Pope reminds us why making and playing music can create so much fun and joy. Matt and Alejandro both demonstrated rocking fluency on guitar and bass as they switched between the two. The perfect harmony among the three piece attests to that.

Philadelphia is currently home to some of the world's best bands and the spirit of the beehive is just one more example. Rivka's angelic voice soars beautifully above the lush and dreamy soundscape of the band. Sometimes the songs conjure a pivotal movie scene where dropped beats give way to majestic keyboard notes. Others compel one to gently headshake sideways while wondering what a kiss could be like with this spinning.

The microphone can be such a drag when you just want to yell. Marisa would eschew it at times in favor of simply screaming towards the heavens. I first saw Mannequin Pussy earlier this year at U+N Fest. Even though they had to dial it far down for a house show, their ferocity was clearly felt as the floor groaned under the cumulative energy of the crowd.

As I stepped back outside, I did not sense the bitter cold. Instead, I was curiously enveloped in an impenetrable warmth. I certainly made the right decision.






[words and photo of Mannequin Pussy by The Paper]

[posted 12.16.16]