Too Much Rock isn't a strictly local affair, but there is some point where the site stops being useful to anyone. No platinum-selling, Grammy Award-winning band playing at an arena needs press from Too Much Rock, and no one reading needs to hear my thoughts on those shows anyway. It's exceptionally rare that you'll catch me (even in a purely tourist capacity) at such big venues. In fact, Warehouse on Broadway sits at the outer reaches of my comfort zone, and even attending a show there requires a special convergence of celestial bodies. One such planetary alignment brought me to the club on a Tuesday night.
At 7pm I clocked out, tossed my camera bag onto my back, locked the doors at Mills Record Company behind me, and walked up the block to the Westport club. Preparations with the venue got me waved in with no fuss. It had been nearly a year since I was in the room. I liked the improvements. New window shades kept the setting sun from competing with the venue's own (serious) lighting rig and the extraordinarily bright projector that decorates the back of the stage – not the bands. A new photo pit allowed me to capture a few shots of each band without being tied to one spot all night. Later it would allow security personnel to wrest crowd surfers to safety. While I waited for the opener I sat on a stool and bellied up to a counter on a raised platform with a clear view of the stage. Honestly, I've experienced expensive VIP sections with less.
Just after 7:30, I Am The Avalanche started the night. The Brooklyn band's history stretches back to the early 2000s, blending punk, emo, pop-punk, and post-hardcore in the right quantities, earning it spots on Warped Tours and countless outings with the similarly inclined. Vinnie Caruana leads the outfit. He paced the wide Warehouse on Broadway stage with his handheld mic, his heart worn conspicuously on his sleeve. Lead guitarist Brandon Swanson was even more active, dancing with his instrument throughout the set. Guitarist Mike Ireland and bassist Kellen Robson stuck close to their microphones, delivering excellent backing vocals that bested my 'whoa-oh-oh-only' expectations. Drummer Brett Romnes might have been the most energetic of the lot, working hard throughout the nearly fifty-minute set. There were breakdowns. There were solos. There were a few over-caffeinated hardcore explosions. Ireland praised the audience's energy, adding "We like the mosh." Smooth new song "I Miss California and Every Dog I’ve Ever Met" recruited Caruana as a third guitarist, but it was the nostalgic finale "Brooklyn Dodgers" that sent the crowd into hysterics. A small merch table (unmanned during the set) featured a pre-release version of the band's upcoming album with hand-made tour-only covers. I guess this wasn't a big show after all.
Between acts I enjoyed my perch, talked with friends, and completed the Wednesday crossword puzzle. Twenty minutes later Dire Straits' "Walk of Life" began playing, announcing the arrival of the headliners. Nice.
Philadelphia's The Menzingers is, and always has been, Greg Barnett (vocals/guitar), Tom May (guitar/vocals), Eric Keen (bass), and Joe Godino (drums). For twenty years the quartet has traded in melodic punk rock loaded with emotionally direct and honest tunes, though its musical arc has always bent toward heartland rock. It's the sort of punk rock-meets-Springsteen where working-class stories are told and the everyman's struggles become anthems. Barnett's weathered vocals colored most of the songs and he handled most of the banter. May's cleaner timbre provided plenty of backing and overlapping vocals, as well as numerous turns on lead. He also provided the energy. The set began with May's pogoing and his motion rarely waned for the ensuing eighty minutes. The audience took longer to match his motion. Initially the crowd only shared in the communal ache of the Americana "There's No Place in This World for Me" and sang loudly with pumped fists to "Anna." But when "I Don't Wanna Be an Asshole Anymore" hit mid-set, crowd surfers appeared and never went away. Barnett got political before launching into "Hope Is a Dangerous Little Thing" and when the hymn reached the chorus, Warehouse on Broadway became a sacred space with teary-eyed disciples shouting the words back at the band.
The group closed with "After the Party." The whole room was finally bouncing in time with May. A two-song encore followed, giving the crowd one last opportunity for fellowship, while shouting "In Remission"'s repeating lament of "If everyone needs a crutch then I need a wheelchair." Sometimes there's no substitute for a big room packed with committed fans. Remind me of this the next time I look for an excuse to skip a big show.
