Attack of the Fruit Bats

On Tuesday evening I took a break from my mundane life of English-teaching drudgery and went to John Henry's, where Andy and I watched Fruit Bats (one of the best and most underappreciated bands of all time) gently rock multiple small planets from an overcrowded stage with bad acoustics. To see them play in such a small and seedy local venue was was surreal. In my mind, this band has been elevated to such a Lennon-esque status for so many years that the little greasy pub didn't seem worthy of its presence.

I love this band so much that I literally have to resist destroying their old albums by over-listening to them; they are really that good (and that few and far-between). I live in dread that someday their songs, after thousands of plays, will lose their resonance... so I monitor my monthly intake. No shit.

Anyway, it appears that a new album is in the workings, and based on what I've heard, the band seems to have branched out substantially, sampling from a wider array of genres than are heard on Spelled in Bones. But despite the new music's more experimental sound, it's still unmistakably Fruit Battish in spirit and lyrics, which is encouraging. Seems like a lot of bands on Sub-Pop eventually become bastardized former shadows of themselves, but I think Fruit Bats will hang on to what makes them themselves.

One of the things I like about this band is that the progression of its albums plays out like a musical storyboard to Eric Johnson's emotional life. The earliest two albums are strangely haunting in both form and lyrics because (I think) Johnson was going through an existential funk when he wrote them, and was unable to separate his art from his mindstate. Spelled in Bones had a slightly more hopeful and romantic tone, and the upcoming album (based on what I've heard) is more upbeat yet, like a soundtrack to approaching the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel (except far less cliche than that expression, of course).
Anyway, I like that the frontman's emotional life is inseparable from the music, because in my own art I'm never able to repress my own mindstate. Too much music isn't as genuine as Fruit Bats, despite the fact that it is supposedly one of the most potent forms of expression. (That's why I refuse to listen to standard radio.)

Bought the little $5 tour EP and have been listening to it in the car since Tuesday.
Yippee for some good tunes.