#makeness

SIDE NOTES: Unknown Mortal Orchestra at 9:30 Club on April 27

Have you ever been to a show where two complete strangers, independent of one another, offered your crew their barricade perches? Or one where the band had a difficult time playing the next song because they were smiling so hard? Perhaps one where once the headliner left their encore and the house lights came up, everyone just kept dancing? That was the energy brought by the crowd – and matched by the artists – at Unknown Mortal Orchestra’s show on April 27. It was a night filled with collaboration, kindness, and sheer joy, qualities it feels hard to come by these days.

We began with Makeness, a one-man, many-MIDI project from Leeds. Nom de plume for Kyle Molleson, Makeness began and ended his set with humility and an endearing shyness, despite having the audience in a tight and meditative trance throughout. Electronic music is a marathon, not a sprint, and Makeness certainly knows how to make the journey. Songs like “Day Old Death” and “Loud Patterns” recalled the dark sensuality of groups like Wild Beasts, Junip, and Antiphon-era Midlake. But there were also clubby jams like “Fire Behind the Two Louis” and “Stepping Out of Sync.” Hip hop breakbeats and Talking Heads-aping synths wound their way into the mix, too.

This unassuming genre-hopping was the perfect way to set the stage for the main act. Unknown Mortal Orchestra has been around in one form or another since 2010, and has spent that whole time pushing the boundaries of its own descriptors.

Now might be a good time to mention the literal stage setting, which can basically be boiled down to ‘ice hotel.’ Dead leaf arrangements were stacked high in the back, and white fur carpets draped the drum and keyboard risers. Dead center were a spinning white turntable, a white bench, and a plain white chair. Combined with the amoebic and finely-tuned lighting UMO brought along, it was like watching a blank canvas change colors for two hours.

Given this seemingly muted and trippy atmosphere, a wintry nook ready to receive UMO’s sleepy psychedelics, you might think 9:30 was in for a tranquil evening. You’d be wrong. In front of an adoring and frenzied room, the Portland-via-New Zealanders transformed into a sort of millennial Rush. There were loudness wars, guitar heroing, crowd surfing, and onstage tequila shots.

But the thread of intimacy was never lost. That turntable and chair also transported us to the band’s bedroom tape deck beginnings. During “From The Sun” – y’know, the ballad about isolation and suicide – Ruban hopped offstage and onto the packed floor, becoming about as un-isolated as a rock star can. Despite the obsessively-practiced prowess of this group of musicians, it somehow felt like an even playing field for the audience below.

UMO’s set spanned their discography, from classics like “Ffunny Ffriends” and “So Good At Being In Trouble” to cuts from 2018’s Sex & Food like “Hunnybee” and “American Guilt.” Unlike most other acts, and serving as a testament to the devotion of their fans and the quality of the sonic offerings, the crowd’s intensity didn’t let up one iota when anything new was played.

Whether they’re Phishing or starting a mosh pit from the floor, Unknown Mortal Orchestra is a group tailor-made for everyone. Their music refuses to be categorized, and its themes – of depression, queerness, polygamy, and getting by in the harshness of the modern age – create a rare inclusivity often lacking in indie and psych music spaces. Tl;dr: Unknown Mortal Orchestra is the future liberals want.