Crowd Sourced: The Postal Service at the Greek Theatre
Most of the time, it’s all about the music. But sometimes in the realm of live concerts, the venue can be just as much of a draw as the acts that inhabit it. The beauty of Red Rocks in Colorado or The Gorge in Washington state, for example, are both more than capable of enhancing the experience of a set for both the crowd and the performers themselves. In my relatively frequent relocations in the past eighteen months, I’ve had the opportunity and good fortune to see a few shows in places that met the above criteria, so when I moved to Berkeley the week before Memorial Day, the Greek Theatre popped up on my radar soon thereafter. The other time I had been to a Greek-styled open-air amphitheater in the past I was at THE Greek Theatre on the southwestern slope of the Acropolis in Athens, but I had yet to actually experience the acoustics and atmosphere that came with a performance in such a place. So I took a look at the calendar, selected a band I liked (once who was doing only its second, and allegedly last, tour ever), and snatched a couple of tickets shortly before they sold out.
While both the website and my ticket stated that the show would begin at 8:00, as I was finding my seat at a quarter till, the opener to the opener, Baths, was already onstage – this may be the first time in history a popular music concert has started ahead of schedule. The sun was slowly setting over the stage as the rest of the crowd filed in, and had the fog over the bay cooperated, there would have been quite a view of the Golden Gate. Unfortunately it did not, so we grabbed a couple spots on the stone seats and took in a band that I admittedly wasn’t aware of prior to that moment. My best analogy for Baths in terms of their style and skill set on that particular night would be to say that if The Postal Service was the varsity squad that evening, Baths was their freshmen team, and one who listened to Dashboard Confessional to get themselves psyched before the big game. The songs were both electronic and a bit emo – not entirely different from the headliners later that night – but, unfortunately, uninspiring. This is disappointing, as I’ve spent some time listening to their albums in the subsequent days since then and discovered that they are actually quite good. Perhaps it just wasn’t the right forum for their music; I’d advise checking them out regardless.
The act that followed, Big Freedia, was a change of pace, to say the least. I had actually done a bit of research before the show to try to familiarize myself with this opener, and as a result, I knew what was coming. Conversely, I probably can’t say the same for the majority of people around me. Big Freedia is a drag queen from New Orleans, a big influence in the “bounce” style of hip hop, and appeared onstage alongside a DJ and three backup dancers. The music was energetic, the lyrics simple and to the point (example: “I’ve got some gin in my system / Somebody’s gonna be my victim”), and the dancers absolutely in command of the stage. The twerked; they climbed the set; they showed remarkable gluteal muscular endurance. Their abilities were a combination of gymnast, cheerleader, and stripper, with Big Freedia joining in on occasion, much to the delight of the crowd. There had been a bit of hipster backlash after an earlier show in Seattle, but the predominantly college-aged revelers in attendance on the Cal campus were more than ready to have a good time, echoing lyrics on command, bouncing in unison, and taking pictures and video on their phones while texting these to their friends. It was partly awesome, and partly reminiscent of those parties in college where the kids from suburban New England would gather around the beer pong table with forties in hand and jam out to Wu Tang Clan.
Then the guys and gals from The Postal Service ran out on stage and gave their best attempt at twerking, and worlds collided. I’m still not sure how and why Ben Gibbard and the gang chose their touring mates (Divine Fits would open at the second Greek Theatre show the following night), but in that moment there was camaraderie and respect between both artists, not to mention an immense amount of fun.
After an intermission in the slightly chilly night air, the lights dimmed and the band members reemerged. The opening synth chords to “The District Sleeps Alone Tonight” began to play, and it was immediately clear that they were all locked in from that very moment. Having listened to the singular Postal Service album, Give Up, on countless occasions, my brain immediately prepared itself for the transition from this first track into “Such Great Heights”, but the group’s biggest hit was to be saved for quite a bit later in the show. As a side project for all the band’s members, their set didn’t exactly have a large discography to draw from to beef up their live performance, but their individual musical chops were far less limited than the number of songs in their repertoire. Laura Burhenn of the Mynabirds and Jimmy Tamborello of Dntel commanded the rhythm section, and Ben Gibbard was his usual, engaging self. By the time of the female interjection in “Nothing Better”, I was pretty sure I was in love with Jenny Lewis, herself of Rilo Kiley fame. She and Gibbard bounced between guitars, bells, keys, and the live drum set (supplementing Tamborello’s drum machine and samples), all the while showing some serious onstage chemistry amongst the dueling lead vocals. They danced with one another and [at least in pretend] made eyes while singing about love and loss; somewhere, Zooey Deschanel was having second thoughts. It’s been ten years since the lone disc and subsequent tour occurred, and I would have been mildly forgiving if this live side project wasn’t quite in sync, but the acoustics were pitch-perfect and the vocalists didn’t miss a note throughout. “Such Great Heights” became a sing-along with the crowd and was followed by the controlled chaos of “Natural Anthem” to close out the initial set. When they reappeared for the encore, there was a nod to the past with a restructured cover of the Dntel song “(This Is) The Dream of Evan and Chan”, the collaborative track between Tamborello and Gibbard that served as the catalyst for The Postal Service’s existence. They finished with “Brand New Colony”, the opening video-game-like riff giving way to a message of hope and “cut[ting] our bodies free from the tethers of this scene.”
Perhaps we won’t see another Postal Service album. Perhaps this will be their final string of live performances. But on that night, in that venue, none of it mattered. The gang of four joined arms and took a bow as the crowd stood and applauded. “And we’ll become silhouettes”, they had sung. For now, at least.