REVIEW: White Denim @ Brighton Music Hall 10/09

By David Taylor

White Denim’s new album Performance has revived their unhinged rocker vibe, highlighting the band’s impressive musical ability while maintaining an unpolished, gritty sound heard in their earlier albums. There is a distinctly recognizable Austin hum to the band, sharing a similar experimentally psychedelic quality to the 13th Floor Elevators as well as incorporating clean blues licks similar to Gary Clark Jr. and Stevie Ray Vaughan. But more importantly, the new album release has set the band back on the road.

With their average song lasting over seven minutes, White Denim came to rock Brighton Music Hall. Their jammin’ performance style allowed the band to stretch their talents, go past the safety of the recording studio, and experiment on stage. Lead singer James Petralli hit notes previously unheard on album versions. Basic blues licks transformed into musical interludes, taking on Latin samba rhythms or Zeppelin-esk solos, before returning to its original form and allowing the song to progress. And, Petralli even incorporated the hammer-on-pull-off solo technique used by the likes of Eddie Van Halen and Randy Rhoads which elevated the songs into another level of complexity. And, despite all of the experimentation, improvisation, and spontaneity, White Denim never lost the timing. They never missed a note for that matter.

Still, there were far more people at the start of the show than the end, and I attribute that to the band being almost too perfect. White Denim seems to have fallen under the curse of relying too heavily on their musical education. They can play every note. They know every scale backwards and forwards. Consequently, their songs revolve around their talent and knowledge of scales rather than their creativity. Songs started to sound the same, and the show began to blend. Halfway through the concert, I heard an audience member behind me wittily whisper, “I think we’ve heard this one before,” and he had a point. White Denim was missing something, an intangible quality that grabs the audience’s attention. Yes, the band experimented. Yes, the band went beyond the scope of their album versions. But, the experimentation only went as far as the boundary of the scale. Jimmy Page is remarkably knowledgeable despite being self-taught, but he also knew when to break from scales and hit notes that surprised the audience. The same can be said for Bowie, Floyd, and blues legends such as Lonnie Johnson and Muddy Waters. There were very little surprises with White Denim. Their set became rather predictable, and they began to lose my—and the audience’s—attention. Unfortunately, I repeatedly found my eyes drifting towards the Red Sox game on the TV above the bar. And I don’t even like baseball.

The concert checked off every box but one. The band was remarkably likeable. Petralli looked like everyone’s hairy high school bio teacher and was tremendously endearing. The band had a constant smile on their face while performing. The music was fun. The crowd was lively. My ears were ringing. But people lost interest. There was not enough diversity in the music. Outside the venue after the show, I heard one guy ask another what he thought. His response: “Eh, it was pretty good.” That sums it up well in my opinion. It was pretty good. But with the talent White Denim’s has, it should have been great.