The Raveonettes
Independent, March 5
By Chris DeMento
Minimalism is a science too often associated with badly played and poorly written rock ‘n’ roll. That inane, barely listenable mush can become noise art in the burning hearts of burrito-munching garage enthusiasts. You know, of course, that burrito means “Hey, you in the little donkey costume.”
Thankfully, the Raveonettes‘ brand of minimalism is by no means a consumptive joke, but the enchilada proper, drowning in truth: three great good chords; a sweetly sexed, girl-on-boy approach to harmonizing whose average results in unfailingly lusty melodies; a trusty, persistently quaternary time signature; and, to my surprise, nary a kickdrum. Sune Wagner, Sharin Foo, and a would-be Taiko drummer – standing in a sleeveless T behind a tom and a snare – created a steady stream of sleepy homage to the early days of rock on Wednesday night. Lingering perhaps a bit too long on their old stuff, they eventually got around to new cuts like “You Want the Candy” and even a Stereolab cover, “French Disko,” to boot. New, old, or other, the music they play comes deadeningly [sic], unmistakably alive in its solemnity.
Their 4’s, 8’s, and 16’s are layered to taste and well loved by the San Franciscans who packed the house, one of whom couldn’t restrain his zealous “Welcome to San Francisco!” between the first and second numbers of what was to be a compact, though nonetheless decorous set. A quiet “thank you” was returned by the 6-foot, superduper-Cholula-hot Foo, who proceeded to slay the same three chords over and over to the indolently unanimous enjoyment of the audience. They even played a song in 6 (or was it 3?) towards the end of the set: good news for fans who’d like to see them expand their horizons just a bit.