The xx are one of those rare bands that not only meets, but exceeds the cachet prescribed by that buzz-making machine we know as the internet. The eponymous debut album by this London band seemed to appear out of nowhere, a fully formed soundtrack of the juncture where late night love turns into the starry regret of the dawn.
Three people took the stage to a prerecorded version of "Intro" that evening in front of a sold out crowd at Portland's Doug Fir lounge. Even the weekly paper highlighted the xx over the headlining Friendly Fires. Just a few weeks before, keyboardist Baria Qureshi had left the band and the rest of the group decided to soldier on as a three piece. She was not missed, at least not by me.
Dressed all in black clothes and gold chains, bassist Oliver Sim and guitarist Romy Madley Croft stood stock still, trading dreamy vocals on songs like "VCR" as if they were androgynous avatars, trying to access the human emotions of love. Meanwhile, producer Jamie Smith produced the beats with an electronic drum machine that he played with his fingertips.
Sim noted that was the band's first time in Portland and the Doug Fir's minimalist room suited the band's stripped down approach. The audience stood in rapt silence during the band's short set, which more or less encompassed its entire debut album. Between songs, the band said very little. "There is a very good chance we might fuck up," Sims deadpanned, referring to the loss of Qureshi. But he did not need to worry. The band ran through tight versions of songs such as "Crystalised" and "Islands" that sounded flawless.
By the time the set came to an end with "Infinity," the audience had been cooled down then worked into a fever pitch. Bodies moved in a slow groove and part of me wished it was almost closing time rather than 11pm, a time when the boozy evening is coming to a close and exhaustion makes those last moments seem like a bizarre, alternative reality. The xx would be a perfect complement to such a time.
Like a good number of the crowd, I split before Friendly Fires took the stage. The xx will be returning in a few months to Portland's garish Crystal Ballroom with the similarly named jj. I can't wait to see them again but I know the show won't have the same intimate nature as the Doug Fir. I guess I can just wait until three in the morning and put on my headphones. That should do the trick.
by David Harris
[Photos: Sarah Bastin]
