Rinse And Repeat

The opening act for Washed Out at the Paradise three weeks ago was a bit too excited when he started to hype the headliner. "Washed Up is coming up next," he said. Snarky music bloggers would've laughed if they heard it. Three years ago, when bedroom-based, one-man electronic indie rock got big, critics loved the warped pastiche of pop, R&B and dance music for its contemporary relevance. Its creators were often underemployed in the recession, creating music alone and frugally, singing about the ambivalence of the mid-20s, and writing somewhat nostalgic songs that had been eaten away by a toppled economy. It was also catchy. Now the scene has moved on, as scenes do because they're fickle, to new splinters of indie rock.

Nonetheless, Washed Out easily sold out the Paradise, the venue in Boston that signals a band has more or less arrived. Ernest Greene, who started his solo project at home in rural Georgia when he couldn't find a job after graduating with a master's degree in library science, rose to the top of the wave and stayed. He deserves to be there -- in concert he's charming and his LP and EP are both very good. On record, Washed Out's songs are much more contemplative on record than they are live, when the strains of R&B, hip-hop and even club music are more firmly in the foreground. Everyone danced during the show. It was my first time, though, seeing such an electronics-based act, which was an adjustment. Even though Greene recruited a full band for this tour, including a drummer and bassist, there was too much pre-recorded material for me. Greene triggered a lot of music from his iPad. He and another bandmate spent much of their time sharing three keyboards, but they rarely played full melodies. Instead, they held long chords and slight changes seemed only to launch new loops. The suspicion was too strong that not much work was happening. The curtain was pulled back and the computers kept working at full steam.

The next week was WU LYF, a young British quartet who sold out Brighton Music Hall. They're not part of any scene, though they're equally lauded for what they call "heavy pop," or muscular but earnest, noisy but faithful rock. The lead singer gesticulated and gesticulated in nonsensical but exciting ways. He was wearing a denim jacket so torn that it must've been the thousandth time he wore it. He apologized that he'd lost his voice, but based on the online videos I've watched since then, I think his singing is always that husky and unintelligible. The band's music also combines unexpected strains -- punk and aggressive rock, but also the ringing guitar lines that made U2 famous and maybe even a little reggae or Caribbean rhythm. The crowd ate up every moment and did a good job catching the lead singer when he heartily dove off the stage. I'd only heard a handful of songs before I went, but it was hard not to be captivated by a band that clearly gave so much of themselves.

Not too much connects these two shows, except that I saw one after the other and perhaps that they reinforce the lesson that genuine emotion, live instruments, and commitment win in the end. Above is a video of WU LYF's performance on "Letterman" earlier this year. The funniest part is when they shout an obscenity and then leave early, leaving Letterman befuddled.