Modern Baseball
– ACADEMY 2, MANCHESTER –
Modern Baseball (MoBo from herein, shamelessly stolen from a Pitchfork review), are a band at the forefront of that oft misunderstood genre ‘emo’. I say misunderstood, because it conjures up images of sad teenagers dressed in various shades of black being sad about how sad their lives are, taking all the sadness that the world presents them with and being even sadder with it, listening to bands like Modern Baseball so they can vent their sadness through the sad songs of a band that matters to them.
My experience of ‘emo’ is so different to this. Bands like MoBo, The Hotelier and Brand New over the last couple of years have been some of the most uplifting gigs I’ve been to, the coming together of groups of people that fully adore the acts – like, all in, knowing every word of every song in adoration. They are groups who come to be together with like minded people and have a cathartic and life affirming night out. Sure, the lyrics are personal and raw and are made for shouting out whilst punching the air with your tattooed fist, but the melodies are catchy and the humour is self-deprecating and it all adds up to make an overwhelmingly positive experience.
Take MoBo for instance; they have two writers and singers in the band, Brendan Lukens and Jake Ewald, who share both those duties across albums. Their latest LP Holy Ghost is split pretty much 50/50 down the middle, with Ewald’s more melodic, almost stadium grasping songs occupying the first half, and Lukens’ more frantic, closer to punk songs taking up the second. Yet only Ewald is here tonight, as Lukens’ well documented mental health issues have meant that he isn’t traveling with the band, a fact acknowledged when Ewald stops the set halfway through to wish him well, to which the crowd wildly applaud and break out into a spontaneous chant of “Brendan! Brendan!”. The rest of the band then leave the stage and Ewald does three acoustic songs from earlier albums including the wonderful ‘Coals’ (“I’m alright, but I’m always getting better”) from their debut Sports, and there are actual lighters being waved in the air and groups of mates are hugging and silently mouthing along; it’s far from cheesy, but it is very fucking emo, and it’s also very fucking brilliant.
Modern Baseball
Most of the short Holy Ghost album is given a run out tonight, with the opening one-two of ‘Wedding Singer’ and the wonderful ‘Note To Self’ (“there will be no more fucking around today” sang back to the band with particular fervour) being my personal highlights of a set that rarely leaves me anything but grinning from ear to ear. Because this is what ‘emo’ does to you. It doesn’t make you sad, it makes you feel so uplifted to be in the company of so many people who share such a passion for a band.
This reaches peak levels when they get a long haired guy wearing a Beatles t-shirt up from the crowd to sing with the band on ‘The Weekend’, and what we get isn’t a crap, star-struck fan rendition of one of their most beloved songs, but a word and note perfect passionate tear through of the song that, if you’d just walked in off the street, you wouldn’t realise that this kid wasn’t the lead singer. Again, it’s not a cheesy thing to happen, it’s just utterly joyous for both the lucky lad and everyone in the crowd who loudly will him along.
After this, the final few tracks are just one big celebration. The lead singer of the support band Thin Lips, Chrissy Tashjian, joins the band for ‘Apple Cider, I Don’t Mind’ and ‘Just Another Face’, before the night ends with a bombastic cover of The Killers’ ‘When We Were Young’, which somehow manages to capture the entire night’s experience in one perfectly chosen song. Fuck the ‘emo’ tag and it’s associations, this has been a joyous celebration of being young and all the problems and amazingness that come with it. Just what emo should be.
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