Could you deliver a message to my mom and dad?
There's something weirdly revealing about seeing a band play an under-attended weeknight show in Des Moines. The great ones, like Sweden's Love Is All, thrive on the energy what little audience is in attendance throws their way, making for an intimate, unforgettable experience. Others, like L.A.'s Dum Dum Girls, strut around like they're too big to be here, as Christopher Owens from tourmates Girls-- who really did think his band was too big to be here and decided to skip that stop on the tour, but showed up in the audience anyway-- wanders around in a hunched pose with a weasel-ish expression. There's probably a famous quote out there I'm not remembering about how when bands play New York, they know they're playing for an audience that sees a ton of bands come through, so they have to put on their best show; seeing bands in Des Moines gives you an idea how they might play when they think hardly anyone is looking.

I wasn't really sure what to expect from Fergus & Geronimo, a Denton, Texas-based duo who have since resettled in Brooklyn. When I interviewed them for eMusic, at first I was afraid our conversation was going to look pretty boring in Q&A form-- that is, until I played back the tape and realized they were actually sort of hilarious, just mostly at my expense (I'm the guy who, as they touted how much they supposedly love sports and claimed they moved to New York City because the New York Jets had won the Super Bowl-- think about that for a second-- said something like, "Oh man, there's not enough indie-rock bands or whatever you want to call them that are into sports-- I mean, I love sports!"). But their debut album, Unlearn, on Sub Pop imprint Hardly Art, is a smart, sardonic update on plenty of classic 1960s garage rock and pop, the kind of record that might throw you off at first with its heavy irony and primitive feel but really grows on you as you find yourself noticing more and more details. So I was curious how they'd respond to a Monday evening crowd in Des Moines.

The crowd last night was even thinner than I might have expected, with not a lot of guys and only one woman in the audience. Ames-based openers Nuclear Rodeo put on another solid set of sort of Weezer-ish power-pop, maybe a little louder and more raucous this time, and joined by a keyboard player, but-- well, Mondays are Mondays, and I guess most people's friends were like my wife, or Chet Boom's girlfriend, or Ben and Travis and Moffitt, who had to work early in the next morning or were out of town or whatever. But I was happy to find that Fergus & Geronimo still put on a really fun set for the modest sausage party that was there. Jason Kelly, aka Geronimo, has big glasses and slightly mussed brown hair, looking a bit like the indie-film director Andrew Bujalski, and splits his time between guitar and keyboard. Andy Savage, aka Fergus, has more of a blonde Kurt Cobain mop, and spends the evening behind the drum kit. They each trade off lead vocals, and are joined live by a bass player and another guitarist.

Jason admitted to being slightly stoned, and Ladd bought the band a round of shots, so it might not have been Fergus & Geronimo's tightest performance ever or anything. But I was impressed by a lot of things, including: Jason's voice in-real-life sounding all raw and soulful and gritty like Otis Redding or Jagger or something on standout "Powerful Lovin'"; the new song they had just written in the van that day (something about "strange wool"?) they played before segueing into "Powerful Lovin'" and then cutting things off when the shots came onstage and then going back into it again because they saw that's what the people wanted; the other new song they had written in that van today (this time something about Roman numerals); "Baby Don't You Cry"; the way Jason really sticks his tongue out exaggeratedly when doing "la-la-las"; "World Never Stops"; the high praise Jason gave the Iowa sunset; Andy or somebody else saying how they were all sleep-deprived and wanted to get laid and me just thinking man they're in the wrong place tonight because the only girl here has a boyfriend; and how I wished after the last song they had still played "Wanna Know What I Would Do?" because that one hits sort of close to home. I hope someone offered them a place to stay-- another danger of playing Des Moines. I bought a 7".

So all right, I've seen a bunch of other shows since I last posted about one, including the Poison Control Center (below) playing a bunch of new stuff at Des Moines' new Club 504 venue, and there's a bunch more great stuff coming up (I already bought a ticket for Das Racist in Iowa City). I owe you a spring concert preview. I owe you a lot of things. Unfortunately, I also owe my editors, and they're the ones who pay the bills. Every day I'm hustling like Lykke Li. Until soon.

So I've been writing this ballet...

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