I can’t imagine Man Man not kicking ass, so needless to say, the show kicked ass. More importantly: before they went on stage and while they set up, Beach Boys’ “Kokomo” played on repeat for about a hundred times, but it was followed by Bobby McFerrin’s “Don’t Worry, Be Happy”, which outdid “Kokomo” by roughly a million more repeats. Funniest was the irresistibility of both tunes: there wasn’t a single person setting up the stage that wasn’t singing along, and of course there were sing-along’s amongst the audience as well. But more convincing were the groans every time the song started fresh after a brief silence. The crowd was wild during Man Man’s set. I’m not sure how I feel about the venue.
My favorite is the kind of music I imagine to have been created by hooligans. This includes an imagery, heavily influenced by the movie Underground, of irreparable, drunken devotion to music through an otherwise quiet night. Here the musicians boast of decent talent, but it’s gushing passion that boldens them. Led by roaming spirits to drink their money (and homes) away, of course, their heads and hearts simply can’t be rooted. It encompasses what Zach Condon called a “ramshackle orchestra” he first witnessed in Paris (and later re-created in Brooklyn). Man Man are such gypsies at heart, and that’s why I love them. Their show at McCarren Pool was the best I’ve seen all this summer. From the way they were physically set up on stage to the way the songs are written, arranged and performed, the group is very organic, and each member a gift. Albums are a bonus, but Man Man must simply be seen live. Besides, they’re how a “rock and roll” band should be: at once, talented and clumsy, serious and unserious, intellectual and anti-intellectual; but rebellious at all times by simply being all they care to be.
