Or, the Whale
June 5th at the Independent

Considering the weight of its reference, it’s no surprise that San Francisco’s Or, the Whale chose a diminutive approach to channeling Melville’s literary leviathan. But for a small band, Or, the Whale is making waves. Boasting a chorus of four harmonizing singers over a foundation of rootsy, often countrified rock, the band blew the lid off the Independent last Thursday with a slew of crackling tunes from their recent album, Light Poles and Pines. Before the show, singer/guitarist Alex Robins sat down with Crawdaddy! to talk about Hurricane Katrina, Good Morning America, his love for Seattle’s the Maldives, and his fear of the ocean. Don’t call him Ishmael. – Andres Jauregui

Crawdaddy!: So why’d you go with the Moby Dick reference?

Alex Robins: [Moby Dick] was a favorite of [guitarist] Matt [Sartain]’s in college. I was always fascinated, also, by the whole nautical vibe. I have a lot of nautical tattoos, although I’m not super stoked on the ocean [laughs]. I’m not a great swimmer. But I’ve always found it sort of captivating. It’s crazy to think about the depths of it and what goes on in it… the cycles of life and death.

Crawdaddy!: Do you think that the nautical theme has been overplayed?

Robins: I think to some extent, yes. I think that it’s a nice theme, but sometimes, people get bogged down in it, just like… when people say we’re alt-country. That cuts out so much stuff that we do that isn’t alt-country.

Crawdaddy!: There is a heavy sense of nostalgia in the band—in your songs, in your image—that I’ve noticed. Do you think that sense of nostalgia is an essential part of Or, the Whale?

Robins: I think that there’s something intriguing to us about looking back. Obviously, we’re all big fans of classic stuff, whether it’s art or photography, or literature, or music… but not on a purposeful level. We’re not trying to be a revival band and dress up in old timey stuff [laughs]. Our harmonies stick out to a lot of people. I think we started out by emulating that classic Gram Parsons, Emmylou Harris sort of harmony thing. 

Crawdaddy!: It sounds very American…

Robins: I think that a lot of our influences are very American. Or, as in the case of the Band, very Canadian, too [laughs]. We’re not an overtly political or religious band, but we’re definitely influenced by these classic themes of life and loss and hope and faith. And that, in the last century or two, has been the American experience. To expand and lose and gain and hope, and ultimately, you hopefully perpetuate. So I guess we’re sort of trying to perpetuate, I guess [laughs].

Crawdaddy!: Speaking of those themes, and of political songs, I think one of your more political songs is “Call and Response.” What drove you to write the song?

Robins: [When] I moved here to San Francisco, the day that my friend and I left to start driving out was the day that Hurricane Katrina hit. We watched the carnage on TV when we stopped… And being a history major in college, I sort of had this perspective that these seemingly isolated incidents aren’t isolated… here are these people who are being ignored. I’m not pro-Democrat or anti-Republican; I just feel like the government should have some sort of responsibility for its people. There were all these opportunities, and no action was taken. It was really hard to watch, and it just moved me. Also, [laughs] it’s a four-on-the-floor, upbeat song, so people sort of dig it.

Crawdaddy!: How did you end up playing on Good Morning America?

Robins: It was completely random. We got an email from a booker from one of the venues in San Francisco on a Sunday night at 10 o’clock. It was kind of a cryptic email about an opportunity to be seen by a big audience. So I replied, and half an hour later, I got a call from a producer at ABC. Apparently, we were in her iPod. Thirty-six hours later, we played in front of the Golden Gate Bridge at four in the morning. …Five million people saw it, and our iTunes sales went up very drastically for a couple of days. If ABC, NBC, CBS, anyone wants us, give us a holler and we’ll be more than happy to play in front of the bridge again.

Crawdaddy!: What are some bands that you’re obsessed with right now?

Robins: We’ve been obsessed with this band from Seattle called the Maldives. This band has like nine hairy flannel dudes playing at 11. It’s like Springsteen meets Skynyrd… and bands from around here, like the Dodos. We got a chance to play with them at Noise Pop, and they were unbelievable. 

Listen: Various Tracks [at myspace.com]

Beirut
May 27th at the Grand Regency

The first thing I saw when I walked into Beirut’s show on Tuesday night was a spazzy group of what looked to be art students hoist a friend up on their shoulders and spin him around like a human helicopter, taking people out left and right in their wake. I was late (again). The band was going strong. Zach Condon is 22 years old? I didn’t even realize that fact till just prior to the show. He reminds me of Jens Lekman when he sings and he effortlessly carries his seven-piece band. Beirut is really, really good live. They have a commanding onstage presence, and they played two incredibly well-received encores. For the second encore I moved up to the front and got my ankle stomped on by the same group of kids that were swinging their friend around. Despite that slight nuisance, I had one of those moments in the show when I felt so captivated by the band and the audience was collectively so rapt that I got the chills. You know, that spine-tingling feeling you get when you’re moved by a piece of music while taking part in the transfer of energy between the band and its various members and the audience. This old, disgruntled lady checking tickets when I walked in asked me where the band was from, so clearly was she baffled by the kids flailing around everywhere, and when I told her he was from Albuquerque, I realized myself how surprising that actually is, because of the European sound and all its florid instrumentation—French horn, trumpet, guitar, accordion, glockenspiel, violin, ukulele, etc., are plentiful, carrying Condon’s baroque melodies clear into the rafters and into the ears of the concert patrons, both us docile ones and the ones that were losing their shit to the good stuff going down onstage. - Angela Zimmerman

Watch: “Postcards From Italy“ [at myspace.com]