One of my worries for the past three months hasn’t been the war in Iraq, or my apartment always being in discord, or the fact I totally am working 40 hours a week on top of taking 18 units at school and going to shows. No. I have been concerned whether or not Bloc Party was going to duplicate “The Prayer” live.
I thought it kind of funny I was spending St. Patrick’s Day with a British band, but made no qualms as my good friends Kristin and Kim accompanied me inside the Concourse Design Center on Saturday. This venue is typically used as a conference center and reminds me of a carpeted cafeteria, so after we checked out the merch booth and I scored a sweet Bloc tote, we made our way towards the floor. The Concourse isn’t exactly known for its sound, and thus you need to be in the first half of the venue for the sound to be good.
We ended up on the stage left side of the railing after realizing we couldn’t see anything on the floor. Lead singer Kele Okereke was softly singing the lines to opening track “Song For Clay (Disappear Here)” off Weekend In The City, a moody and postpunk-influenced song that grabbed most of the sold-out crowd’s attention that they were on stage.
And then Bloc Party brought the party.
Bobbing my head during “Positive Tension” and screaming “So fucking useless!” at the top of my lungs. Going batshit insane during “Hunting For Witches” with that crazy weird pitter-patter of blips and down-spiraling computer intro. Swooning over shredder Russell Lissack during “Like Eating Glass” with all of the layered and woozy guitar. Singing through “I Still Remember” and literally pointing out “my left behind” during “Banquet” with the girls, I could have left the show fully satisfied until I heard the first looming, ominous claps and Kele’s low voice for “The Prayer.” Not only is this my favorite song off Weekend, I think it’s pretty much the sex and have seriously been anxious to see if it would sound as good live. Not only was it delicious and creepy, I also am a sucker for songs you can clap to. Only me.
After a few wipes to my forehead to bat away the sweat, and collecting Kristin after she snuck backstage with essentially the greatest of ease, we blasted “The Prayer” on Kim’s car with the sun roof and windows open and singing at the top of our lungs. I saw Bloc Party at the Greek in August of last year, and something seemed a bit off; their meshing with each other wasn’t as smooth as I remembered. Between then and now, though, they have managed to knit themselves back together and are ready to rule the world. Bring it.
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