On a hot summer night in 1994, Boston’s Swirlies played one of the sweatiest, raucous gigs at the El Mocambo, alongside one of their contemporaries, Lilys that I’ve seen. 21 years later, that show still holds up as one of my most memorable and it was this that had me enter the Drake Hotel with ridiculously high expectations.
I had first heard the Swirlies “Upstairs” one night at the Dance Cave in the early 90s. Its loose My Bloody Valentine via Sonic Youth guitars undercut by a driving groove stopped me in my tracks on that dancefloor before fleeing to the DJ booth to inquire what was making me so damn happy. Thus began a brief, torrid love affair with the band led by guitarist/vocalist Damon Tuntunjian.
Somehow, moving to BC made me forget the band (I had to get rid of most of my music) until earlier this year when the show at the Drake was announced. The initial disbelief turned to utter joy at the thought of reliving that El Mocambo gig.
Unfortunately, the night wouldn’t reach those lofty heights which could have been any number of reasons. The choice of venue was one. I’m a huge fan of gigs at the Drake, but this pairing was a mismatch, the band seemed to be too frumpy for the Queen West venue, not really tailored for debaucherous, sweaty rock ‘n roll.
Tuesday night in the city are not known as exceptional party nights also. Maybe it was the lethargy-inducing humidity that lulled the crowd from complete silence to polite applause.
The band sounded great, for the hour they were on stage, managing to avoid playing “Upstairs” or their other dancey hit “House of Pancake”, songs that might have injected a much needed jolt of energy into the room, witnessed the brief spike in energy levels with “Two Girls Kissing”. Someone had mentioned that they were here last 13 years ago, so their brief set was baffling, when I could have listened to them for another hour.
Quite possibly what did the Swirlies in was following up the intense opening set by Dartmouth, NS four-piece Cryptorips, featuring members of North Of America and Holy Fuck. Playing their first proper gig (a shambolic gig in Dartmouth was recalled) the band was furious and made it look effortless. Completely unknown to me going in, they had a big Fugazi vibe for me and it was awesome. Aside from some awkward stage banter (casually dropping the bomb that the Weakerthans had split which stunned the room), the band wasted no time on heating up the lounge.
A blown amp would give a chance for everyone to catch their breath before annihilating any doubt that they will fade into obscurity with two more songs before calling it a night. All I could think of was how much more amazing the night would have been at a danker venue.
