Heart To Gold, Early Eyes, and Dad Bod Concert Review
Review by: Eric Martin, Writer/Assistant Editor @eamartin95
Edited by: Andrew Perrizo, Owner/Editor @PlaylistTC
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This past Friday night, a sold-out crowd packed into the Underground Music Venue to celebrate the release of Tom, the new album from rockers Heart To Gold which is, for the record, the best local album of the year as of yet. With them was an incredibly stacked bill of support from Early Eyes, Dad Bod, Gramma, and Paqrat. This cathartic affair felt monumental, building off of the energy of the bands and the crowd throughout the night. Singer and guitarist Grant Whiteoak echoed this sentiment early in Heart To Gold’s set, telling us all "I'm so fucking nervous, this is psycho."
It was psycho. The crowd surfing started immediately and continued unceasingly answering the age-old parental question “If your friends jumped off a stage, would you follow them?” with a resounding “YES.” The set began with “Gimme A Call,” the first track off Tom. Sounding like if “My Name Is Jonas” had been held off the Blue Album, fermenting for years until finding a place on Pinkerton, the song kicked off a night of hollering and blazing, ripping through songs on the new album and deeper cuts for the old fans. An hour later, the band built up to “Mary,” an S-Tier anthem-rock set-closer that didn’t just bring down the house, it demolished it.
Setting up for Heart To Gold were Early Eyes.
Early Eyes are a constant gushing fountain of groove. On record, their music moves more like a lazy river, steadily twirling but ultimately relaxed. On stage though, the professional restraint of the studio is cast aside in favor of an outpour of energy. Their vibe-pop transforms into a funky, dancey show - less decorated than, but not dissimilar to, indie-pop legends, Of Montreal. Emblematic of this is their drummer, who cannot remain seated, bouncing off the throne with each track and standing to crash at key inflection points. Some glitz and gleam remains, particularly in the synth and guitar, but polish is generally traded in for energy, resulting in some incredible returns.
The first band I was lucky enough to catch was Dad Bod.
Most Dad Bod songs are medicinal. The typical formula features a soothing salve which surrounds quick, searing rips of the band aid. Live, the scuffs are less softened, and the tears are more cathartic.
When rock fans call a guitar an axe, rarely is it in as literal a sense as how the members of Dad Bod handle their tools. Both guitarists chop with a wide grip and a balanced stance. The head of guitar swings up and down in rhythm, cutting away at invisible logs, singularly purposed and determinedly swift. This near-ritualistic act lends to the atmosphere the group creates, helping fans visualize the emotional outpour of the songs in front of them. An exceptionally earnest rendition of Coldplay's “Yellow” proves that Dad Bod share a similar ethos to the chart-topping, world-trekking band: “Simple and good = simply good.”
