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Nitzer Ebb
Magic Stick, Detroit
18 November 2010
Prepping for last night's show, I popped Industrial Complex into my sound-o-matic, and was transported into a glorious time warp. This being Nitzer Ebb's first studio album in 15 years, I didn't know what to expect. Bands change, sounds evolve; sometimes becoming something wholly (often unbearably) other, sometimes following a familiar path. I was happy to find that Industrial Complex is very Nitzer Ebb – instantly recognizable, while simultaneously updated and outside of time.
NE will always get a certain reaction out of me. For years, That Total Age was the go-to disc for gearing up for a night out. All it would take was the first few clanks of "Fitness to Purpose" to get me hopping. Glad to say, the new disc keeps with the tradition.
After putting on something shiny ("garbage bag coat"!), my +1 and I hit the road for the maiden Detroit voyage of the SS As-Yet-To-Be-Christened. Went without a hitch; I even backed into a parking space. (The tank, she is twice the length of my prior ride.) In the back way, through the bowling alley, up the stairs, name at the door, grab a drink, all right, let's get this started.
I love the space at the Magic Stick.
The first thing I always do is scan the crowd. Especially at these old-school shows, I expect to see many faces I've seen for years. There were surprisingly few of those last night. Maybe it was because of the secret height requirement at the door. Have you ever noticed that some shows are just... taller than others? Apparently, teutonic giants tend toward industrial music. I guess I got an exception at 5'5" (not to mention my friend, who is an inch or two shorter) because I'm The Media.
We missed the first opener, Dethlab, which I'm not sorry about. They were one of the openers for Gary Numan and that night, the crowd was completely unresponsive to them. That's all I'm going to say about that.
The second opener, //TENSE//, was adorable. I'm not sure your average leather-capped growling rockstar-in-the-making would appreciate that characterization, but I'm sticking with it. //TENSE// is an electro-industrial duo from Texas which sounded to me like how I imagine Nitzer Ebb version 0.5; similar sound, if smaller, with excellent energy. So much energy, in fact, the male half of the band injected himself directly into the crowd, seemingly irritated that everyone was too far away from the stage. We can't help it; we're midwesterners. Once ordered to "get in here! get closer!" we dutifully obeyed. (We're good like that.)
After their relatively short set, and a quick smoke break out on the Alley Deck (my friend is the smoker, I just like roofs; either way, time to bust out those heaters, guys!), the stage was set up for our headliner. During the sound check, some very familiar NE sounds sent a chill right up my spine. I'd seen them before in Detroit, once, looooong ago. I found myself wondering, how long ago? Frontman Douglas McCarthy answered that question himself during the set, telling us it was good to be back in Detroit since their last stop at St Andrews in 1989. 1989? For real? All right, they were actually here once since then, at the State in 1992 (according to their official site), but since this was only their third time ever playing Detroit, he's forgiven for misremembering the specifics. It was the St Andrews show I'd seen anyway, so that's what I had in my memory banks for comparison.
By day, mild-mannered reporter. By night...
(No, this is not DC.)
Like a lot of electro-based bands, Nitzer Ebb makes a lot of sound with minimal humans; in this case, the two original/founding members Douglas McCarthy and Bon Harris, plus on-again off-again percussionist Jason Payne. Even with only three people on stage, there's little doubt that this is the Douglas McCarthy show. And oh my heavens, is he cutting a different figure now than he was in 1989. As much as I still love the music, it's difficult to watch the old videos without laughing. I'd dare you to laugh at today's McCarthy. With close-cropped and seriously-styled hair, in a crisp white shirt, black tie and suit, mirrored aviators and a tendency toward crucifix-y poses, he was the absolute definition of prowling the stage. One of NE's defining characteristics has always been McCarthy's dominating growls and barking delivery – best "rrrruuh!" in music? maybe! – and he was every bit as powerful as ever. I was surprised, maybe unfairly, at just how flawless were the vocals. To such an extent, in fact, that due to some bad recent experiences, I was watching closely to see whether he was live or Memorex. It was real. Oh, it was so very real.
Sure, I'll join your cult!
In their hour set, they hit all the high marks from their discography, along with a good number of tunes from the new disc. And boy, was the crowd rowdy. It's hard to anticipate sometimes what kind of crowd you're going to get in Detroit, especially with some of the older acts. Last night got pretty rumbly, in a WE'RE SO HAPPY YOU'RE HERE!! sort of way, which was an awful lot of fun. As for me, well, it seems I still have a lot of muscle-memory left from all those Friday nights at City Club.
Signed CDs and... tote bags?
Just before the set ended, I predicted to my friend that they'd close the show with "Family Man." I was wrong – once again – as not only did they not close with that song, they never even played it. I would have picked that for the crowd-pleaser. What do I know? They did save my favorite for the encore, though, so I got my close-up and growly, not to mention crowd-thrashy, "I Give To You."
In an unexpected twist, when returning for the encore, McCarthy had an announcement for us. His son Felix was not only in the crowd, but his band, The Flaks, were scheduled for a show Sunday, November 28, at the Eagle in Pontiac. Coincidence? No, it turns out the Flaks are actually based right here in Detroit. How did THAT happen?
Whatta ya know, he really is a family man!
After an hour and a quarter of sweaty bliss – and I have to shout-out to my Ear Loves; now that I remember to wear them, shows sound so much better! – we were back on the road. Down the stairs, through the bowling alley, out the back way, and oh... where's my car? All I see is a giant bus! I turned to my friend: "Did they park us in? We may just have to go home with the band!" To which the (previously unnoticed) headsetted road manager off to my left chimed, "Okay!"
If it really was 1989, like in a lot of ways it certainly felt, we just may have.