The High Noon Saloon, one of Madison’s better campus venues, always has a smoky warmth visitors sense as soon as they enter. The wood paneled interior, subtle lighting and roomy standing area invite pensive discussions with close friends, but all of that gives way to a small stage at the back where the right band can transform the narrow standing area to a sweaty mass of intensely dancing bodies. On tour promoting sophomore album It’s Frightening, White Rabbits is that kind of band.
The night started with the pop-folk stylings of Chicago’s Canasta, a band that frolics playfully between delicate ballads and more raucous fare. Their instrumental repertoire included violin and trombone among more traditional rock axes and the unusual combination was used to good effect. As with many opening acts, the mixing could have used some work; it was difficult to pick more than a few words out of Canasta’s sextet-fueled style. This was a shame, as I would have loved to hear a more clear expression from a critically up-and-coming band. But Canasta came off enthusiastic and pleased to start the festivities, suggesting a promising future for both the band and the night.
The Subjects’ turn on stage was less memorable. The New York visitors to Madison sound like a style-jumping cross between the Arctic Monkeys and Ra Ra Riot, and were forgettable for that very reason. Their highly percussive sound and tight song structures certainly played well to the White Rabbits’ strengths, but only a portion of their set entertained that style. Each song started off with a promising idea, only to veer in a different direction half way through. The band sounded almost giddy, unable to settle on any one of their strengths long enough for a truly rewarding completion. Its likely just a matter of growing up for The Subjects, as that kind of stylistic jumping is risky. A better band could have pulled it off, but they’ve yet to perfect the execution. Or at least they didn’t in Madison.
But a so-so performance couldn’t possibly have put a damper on the powerful force that is White Rabbits. In the studio these guys rock. They highlight punchy, driving lines of percussion and follow those like a runaway train. But the group’s vocals, often witty and dark, always rise to the surface. And their newest release only travels further down this aesthetic road with the help of Spoon-fronting minimalist Britt Daniel.
Live, White Rabbits is no different. Even with the amps turned up, two drum kits being slammed into oblivion, and piano dueling with guitar for higher ground, every deftly written lyric comes through. And that clarity isn’t achieved by sacrificing the sweat, chaos, and immediacy of rock as live art. No, White Rabbits just channels their overwhelming energy – the kind that crackles like a dynamo threatening to explode – into a tighter performance, then projects that surging lightning of perfect musical technique and almost unrivaled enthusiasm straight at the audience.
In Madison they walked on stage while a repeating melody of ambient notes played softly – a sonic backdrop in direct contrast to the percussive and sometimes stark arrangements they dashed through urgently the rest of the night. First up was a tight rendition of “Rudie Fails.” Like Spoon, it’s surprising how wonderfully clean their sound is even live, as every lyric was audible with the harmonies clear and exposed. Of course this could mean White Rabbits just avoid doing anything playful or risky on stage. In fact, WR just knows what they’re doing and use sheer enthusiasm and drum crushing tangents to break the studio-monotony. “They Done Wrong / We Done Wrong” played note for note like its album counterpart, but one of the Rabbits was always dancing around the stage with tambourine or drum sticks in hand and Stephen Patterson’s growling delivery of the song’s vocals certainly livened things up.
And their performance peaked when Patterson almost jumped off his bench banging the keys during “The Lady Vanishes” and then “Percussion Gun.” Building the song into a cacophonous rush, all of the members hunched over their instruments in some wild tribal dance – chaotic to the untrained eye yet controlled and harnessing some unfathomable energy. Both WR drummers speedily beat the same floor drum (so fast its surprising they weren’t accidentally playing each other’s flailing arms), the band putting on a performance that only improved until the band’s Fort Nightly-drawn encore. For all the roaring flames they ignited during most of their show, that brooding red-ember and wafting-smoke affair was refreshing. Not only did White Rabbits put on a stunning show with an energy I’ve seen few bands match, they knew exactly how to tone it down for a gracious and rewarding exit from the stage.
