Concert Review: The Airborne Toxic Event @ The Grand Ballroom

Wow. What a horrible venue. The Grand Ballroom at The Regency is one of the most obnoxious, awful places to see music that I have ever had the unfortunate luck of having to visit.

My woes began when I went up to the bar and asked where I could find some water. The bartender said, “That’ll be three dollars.” I said, “Really? You guys serve food. Aren’t you required by law to serve free water.” 

She says to me, “Well, we only serve packaged foods, and that’s just something we do.” 

I say, “So that’s how they get away with it…”, with a bit of a pause for reflection.

And by the way, I said this in a chummy way, as if to imply, we’re on the same page, you and I - we both know that the people you work for are cheap and that if they weren’t such stingy bastards they would obviously serve free water somewhere, just like EVERY other venue or bar in SF. 

But we were not on the same page, this bartender and I. She, for whatever reason, saw the need to defend her company to me. “Look, they’re in the business of selling liquids, so why should they give it away for free?” I don’t know, so people don’t pass out from dehydration from dancing so hard? Possibly? 

Still thinking there was some slim possibility she might just be being sarcastic I laughed and asked for an olive. “Well, what do you say? Jesus!”

“Please?” I offered, a tad confused.

“I’m just saying, don’t bust someone’s balls and then go asking for favors.”

I tried to explain that I was not busting her or any other employee’s balls, but merely questioning the motives of the money-hungry company she worked for. But she wasn’t listening. She was lecturing me on my manners. Despite the fact that she DID give me two olives when I only asked for one, I found this encounter incredibly off-putting and unsettling. Off-putting because it was rude and unnecessary; unsettling because it always creeps me out when people can’t seem to make the distinction between themselves and the company they work for. 

Also, the sound was horrendous. Despite the fancy lights and the abundance of young male, security personnel they have, The Grand Ballroom was obviously designed for weddings, not rock shows.

Oy, so onto Airborne Toxic Event. I have to say I feel quite a bit of pressure to write a fair revue after that open letter they wrote to Ian Cohen of Pitchfork. But I also feel like I’ve held back quite a bit on MCMB, giving credit where it isn’t due in the interest of sounding “fair” and trying not to be “mean.” But what if I never do that? What if no one ever calls out the bad music for what it is? I’ll tell you what would happen. Mediocre bands would soar to the top of the charts. That’s obviously what’s been going on. Let’s face it. This conception of “indie rock” is a joke, because none of it is independent or rock. Now, I’m not about to claim that I’m the one that can define either of those terms, but I refuse to praise another mediocre band for doing nothing special.

So, I’m sorry Airborne Toxic Event, you all seem like smart and perfectly nice people, and I don’t plan on attacking you personally in this review, or making unfair assumptions about your intentions, or calling you names, or anything like that. But I do plan on making some harsh criticisms of your music, criticisms that might sting, but that I feel I have a duty as a music critic to make from time to time.

Though I’m a sucker for violin as much as the next guy, it’s not enough to carry a band, even if there is a bassist with a bow right beside. This is especially true when the violin parts are painfully simple. It’s unfair to waste the power of such a beautiful instrument on doing something that a guitar could do. Counterexamples that come to mind are The Starlight Mints and Jump Little Children. Not only do these bands employ strings to achieve a texture that would otherwise be impossible, the strings players are incredible musicians that compose parts that are intricate as they are catchy. A similar praise can be given to Morphine and Cake when it comes to brass. What I’m saying is, it’s not enough to just have these instruments in your band - they have to be used well. I don’t think this is true in Airborne Toxic Event. The violin plays notes that are sustained and close to each other, mimicking the equally simple vocal melody. The effect, though initially engaging, is that of a let down.

But the instrumentation isn’t the only thing that’s lacking. The Pitchfork article criticized their lyrics plenty, so I won’t go there, despite agreeing whole-heartedly with much of what was said. Instead I’ll focus on the live analog, their dramatic delivery. Now, granted, I already told you the sound was dreadful, so perhaps they were experiencing the same thing on stage and just couldn’t hear themselves, but it felt as if they were all lip-synching or air-playing. Every now and then one of them would look up from what they were doing to give a chin-out glamour shot, and then go back to half-heartedly jerking to the beat. The first thought that came to mind was that they just weren’t ready. They didn’t know how to perform. Maybe they didn’t realize that they were supposed to be putting on a show.

I think the Pitchfork review was kind of harsh, and if the review were about me I would feel like I had been treated unfairly, but I think there’s a reason for the passion behind it. Ian Cohen said that he was “insulted” by the lack of originality. I guess I feel the same way. Any band that makes it to the point of playing venues as big (though hopefully not as awful) as The Grand Ballroom should either be displaying masterful musicianship or shocking originality. Catchy tunes and some marketing prowess should not be enough to make you famous. I know this isn’t the reality, and I have to say that I too, find the actual reality to be “insulting.”

Maybe Airborne Toxic Event doesn’t deserve to take all the weight of this rant, but I’m just calling them like I see them, and I don’t think anyone deserves to get famous for nothing.