REVIEW: The Orwells @ the Middle East Upstairs 11/05
Photo Credit: Daniel Topete
The crowd funneling into the Middle East Saturday night wasn’t just there to hear the dirty, anthemic rock ‘n’ roll tunes of some Chicago rockers—they were there to witness a rock ‘n’ roll resurrection. They came sporting denim jackets and combat boots, ready to sacrifice their voices, bodies, and probably their souls. The stage served as an altar for the night’s proceedings, and the saviors were none other than The Orwells.
Before The Orwells took the stage, fellow Chicago natives The Symposium warmed up the crowd with their sweet but garage-y psych pop. Sharp guitar riffs cut through humming bass lines and spacey synths as Charlie Gammel’s chilled-out vocals crooned. The result was an undeniably catchy set. Gammel was insistent that he was feeling Boston’s good vibes, and why wouldn’t he, when the crowd was enthusiastically bouncing around to The Symposium’s songs? Without a doubt, Boston wanted the band back here soon.
Until then, they had The Orwells to feed their craving for top quality music. Matt O’Keefe (guitar), Henry Brinner (drums), Grant Brinner (bass), and Dominic Corso (guitar) strolled onto the stage of the Middle East to the crowd’s unrestrained delight. However, there was a tense excitement that lingered. Someone was missing.
High-pitched voices shrieking, “MARIO!” emanated through the venue as the elusive frontman became visible at the side of the stage. Perhaps it was his long, unruly, blonde locks that gave him away, or his purple and yellow zebra-print Minnesota Vikings leggings. But what really drew the gazes was his effortlessly cool and careless attitude that was showcased as the band launched into “They Put a Body in the Bayou,” a song off their new album Terrible Human Beings due out on Feb. 17.
The wailing guitar line of the intro began, and Mario Cuomo was already sauntering back and forth across the stage, microphone in hand. His onstage antics are part of “The Orwells experience,” but he was only warming up.
“Dirty Sheets,” a favorite off their previous album, Disgraceland, brought the set to a whole new level, even though the band was only two songs in. Everyone knew the words by heart as they screamed back “What’s your name and what’s your story / Head is heavy / I’m still horny.” Meanwhile, Cuomo could be found anywhere but the stage—he was lounging atop the shoulders of the densely packed crowd, or within inches of fans’ faces, shrouding them with his tangled (and increasingly sweaty) head of hair.
Corso narrated the night by presenting the crowd with new tunes like “Buddy,” as well as old classics like “The Righteous One,” “In My Bed,” “Southern Comfort,” and “Mallrats (La La La).” When it came time to play “Gotta Get Down,” another favorite from Disgraceland, O’Keefe and Corso teased the crowd by playing only half of the iconic intro before finally launching into it fully, releasing the excited tension they had built. Cuomo complimented the band’s playing with warning screams of, “My daddy’s got a 12 gauge / I hope I don’t find it.”
The set was unrestrained chaos, but the results couldn’t have been better. The crowd surged as a singular, sweaty mass during the explosive encore composed of “Who Needs You” and “Head.” Cuomo seemed to hurtle headlong into uncontrolled insanity as he became possessed by the rock ‘n’ roll spirit itself. The band, whose musicianship is nothing short of incredible, echoed this passion, but with flawless execution instead of unbridled convulsions and screams. And with that, The Orwells left the stage and consequently left the crowd in a stunned bliss.
The Orwells never fail in producing a near religious experience during their shows. The band’s admiring respect and complete embodiment of rock ‘n’ roll in its most fundamental, dirty, raunchy form causes them to put on shows unlike those of any other rock band today. They shamelessly have the attitude of the biggest rock ‘n’ roll band in America. In other words, they’re good at what they do, and they aren’t shy about showing it. Cuomo’s onstage persona could be seen as vulgar and gimmicky, but in reality he’s doing what the most infamous frontmen of the genre have been doing for years—he pushes the envelope and frankly doesn’t care how people feel about it. When that attitude is melded with honest songwriting and immensely talented musicians, you’re destined to end up with one of the greatest rock bands of the era. And after witnessing the inspiring chaos of their shows, you know The Orwells are undoubtedly one of those bands.
-Olivia Gehrke