Death From Above 1979 | Theater Critic's Choice | Chicago Reader

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Death From Above 1979

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You know your band's gonna be all right when your fans get pissy about a positive Pitchfork review, as if even getting props from the snobbiest of snobs does some disservice to your genius. But that's just one review, and Toronto duo Death From Above 1979 is currently enjoying a Slip 'n Slide journey down a stream of critics' drool--UK mags Dazed & Confused, Kerrang, and NME can't invent hyperbole too outrageous for them. On its first two EPs the band's fractured bass-drum sound had a sloppy-sex-at-4 AM appeal, and there are only slight adjustments for the new full-length, You're a Woman, I'm a Machine (Vice). Jesse F. Keeler's craggy funk bass still makes drunken karate kicks; Sebastien Grainger sings like he can barely keep his tongue in his mouth, and his speeding-bullet drumming whips the shit out of every song. When the syncopated vocals nudge up against the bass jolts, the music gets so frenzied it sounds ready to collapse, like a jockey riding a horse so hard he almost flips over its head. Nobody may remember these guys in two years, but they play the kind of stuff that lights a fire in your pants and makes you want to do back bends on the dance floor. Panthers headline; Vietnam opens. Saturday 11/6, 10 PM, Subterranean Cafe & Cabaret, 2011 W. North, 773-278-6600 or 800-594-8499, $8 in advance, $10 at the door.

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