Sam Roberts Band & La Rocca - Chicago, IL

Crowds. I absolutely love crowds. This night at Schubas was a particularly hopping one, with hoards of crazed Sam Roberts fans teeming all over the front bar, clutching drinks and each other in a frenzy of anticipation for the big show - see, he was just about to release a new record, Chemical City and the kids were all atwitter about it. He's a complicated dude, Mr. Roberts; a real multi-faceted gent with a titillating story and an arsenal of raw talent - musical, athletic, he displays savvy as a producer and has no trouble just being sexy. Myself, I'd listened to the new album a good seven times before the show and did my research to boot - that's where I got clued into his incredible tale of staggering sports triumph capped by swift devastation in his very formative youth. Then the turn-on to music, from classical violin to rock and roll, marked by a frothy wake of solid success spreading out behind. He inspires me and makes me horny and has a great new scruffy, shaggy, sparkly-eyed look to back up that amazing talent and ambition. So I was a little excited about the show.

I arrived with two friends just prior to Irish opener La Rocca. My pals had been out drinking all day in the keen spring weather and quickly revealed themselves too drunk to stand up really at all, let alone enjoy a show. I was a bit put off. Then when one of them clumsily put his meaty tongue in my mouth, quite without invitation, I was a lot put off. Eh...we're okay now, we talked it out. Anyway. I had another exciting moment at the bar prior to the show: waiting for my Tom Collins I met a reeeeally pretty lady called Colleen. I did my best to charm her sweet little tits off, flattering her, asking lots of questions about her life I no longer recall the answers to, that type of thing. The opener was getting ready to go on so I had to hurry - I asked her to meet me inside the performance space and she (heartpound, heartpound) said she would. The vibe was all there. I bought us a quick shot of Jameson and we held them to each other's lips to sip, which left us in a great position for a dirty little kiss. I moved in swiftly when BAM! a beefy hand came between our eager, lusty faces and crashed defiantly on the bar. The hand was connected to an arm which was connected to the body of Mark, my friend who'd just tried to French kiss me. "Wagner!" He bellowed, "Isn't it time for you to write or something?! Get your disease-riddled ass in there and do your job!!!" As is common with irate men barging in on ladies kissing, it was difficult to determine who he was envious of. Maybe both of us. So I punched him in the gut, an action that seemed to cover all possibilities, and went on into the show.

La Rocca, the Dublin four piece, was a perfect opener to Sam Roberts. They incorporated the simplest standard rock necessities: guitar, bass, keyboards, drums, leather jackets, and tight tee shirts. It was the first time in Chicago for these eager beavers, and it's good clean loud rock. We got a taste of the stuff they're laying down, like the energetic, upbeat "Sketches," the Squeeze-esque, breezy, "This Life," and the political, catchy, slightly bitchy "Eyes While Open." So who doesn't sound a little like Thom Yorke anymore? They also leave a little taste of Weezer in your mouth, but occasionally give it to you sorta hard up the ass Oasis style. The set was disappointingly short, though, even for an opener...which I guess speaks volumes of how much fun they are. Their EP, Sing Song Sung is available now, but I'd say hold out for their new album, The Truth, to be released in August of this year. Before they took their leave, they had one question for Chicago: "Are we friends yet? Because we came here to make some friends." You betcha.

The Sam Roberts Band took the stage and started with church organ style keyboards, the accent sound of their new 70's rock concept album, Chemical City, actually largely recorded in a church in Australia. The first tune, "The Gate," is also the first (and my favorite) song on the new record. It's BIG and full and sets a mythical tone, spinning a story of an oppressed futuristic city whose gates have just blown open. It really generates the feeling of possibility, the taste of freedom, and urgency to get started on something massive. If only the amazing cover art, depicting said metropolis in incredible detail, was displayed someplace to accompany the tune. It set a hyper, excited standard for the evening, all right. They all likes the messy hair flip a lot, those boys. And they all have generous, hot lips. Huh. The second and third songs dipped into the established power of their first album, We Were Born in a Flame, and the crowd was fanatic about it. Somebody behind me kept poking me, and wouldn't leave me alone. I turned around ready to sock yet another drunken fuck in the breadbasket when I recognized sweet Colleen. She'd brought me a fresh cold beer and wouldn't take any money, and she just kept that up for the rest of the set. I was falling in love with that girl. The band represented the rest of the best off the new record, including the cool, swaggering, meandering and full-on sexy "Bootleg Saint," which you cannot help shaking your hips to, real sultry like. They also banged out the Vietnam/Iraq significant, thought-provoking "American Draft Dodger" - these guys are cold and alone and blue at exactly the right time. They had a ton of energy on that one. Sam could have been a little more connected with his audience, though, for such an intimate space he sometimes seemed a thousand miles away. The set was a satisfying length, the crowd was on fire, and encore #1 was the sweet one from the new album, "Rising Down Under." He was noticeably pleased by the audience response - the ladies went wild. There's a great line of love logic in that song - "I can wait a while, I got time." They then upped the tempo and moved into the old and cherished "Climb Over Me." I don't even remember if a third encore followed that, it had such impact. All I knew is that the show, the awesome show, was over, and despite being fed beers from hot Colleen all night, I was still thirsty. I went looking for my two friends, those drunken people I'd been neglecting. I didn't see them anyplace, and I looked under stuff. I came to find out from a cocktail waitress that they'd both been kicked out for starting an impromptu and cutthroat dart competition. It was quite exciting, from what she said, but Schubas does not have a dartboard. The ambulance and the cops both got their turn with my friends, and in the aftermath, bits of bloody flesh impaled all over the bar, Colleen and I finally had our delicious kiss. The wails of the wounded provided the sensual background noise and the two of us, well, we've been stuck to each other ever since.