The Raveonettes at Double Door
You know those signs they post at venue doors as a warning to people that be adversely affected by bright, flashing lights? It’s generally something along the lines of, “Strobe lights will be used during tonight’s performance.” If there was one of those signs at Double Door when The Raveonettes played this show it wasn’t big enough, loud enough or angry enough to properly prepare anyone for the epileptic zoetrope that was about to unfold on stage.
In all honesty, I’m not a huge fan of a large portion of The Raveonettes catalog because it find it too melancholy, meandering and monotonous in overall sound. I appreciate what they’re doing. I’ll put it on in the background when I’m trying to get work done (and not just when I’m writing a review of their live show), but I rarely find myself seeking out one of their tracks or albums to scratch an immediate itch. Seeing them live is a completely different story.
When you add live drums, a sold out crowd in a tiny space and strobe lights, everything about The Raveonettes changes. Indie rock feels like rock n’ roll. Ethereal vocals about dark topics are even more haunting. It’s no longer music you can put on in the background and zone out to because you’re absolutely captivated. Every single second of the show was fucking awesome.
You can see the emotion. You can feel the colors. It’s safe to dance around in your five square feet of personal space. Hell, throw up the horns and sing along if you want. Or, just let the cool blues and bright whites [Ed. Note: White t-shirts haven’t looked that cool since The Wire.] wash over you. At the end of the day, it doesn’t really matter what you do when you’re having a good time at a show because someone else in the crowd seeing The Raveonettes will be doing it, too. It’s impossible to have a bad time seeing The Raveonettes live.