Participatory Rock

Elliot Brood. Seriously. So Good.

They make banjo sexy.  Mark Sasso? Sexy. Combine now-time rock with oldey-time sound. And lets not even talk about the experience of closing your eyes and seeing tumble weeds roll by a saloon full of bandits and bathtub whiskey, poker games and a player piano... Lets talk about audience participation.

You go to a concert and you expect people to sing along, you expect people to dance, and jump around and rush the stage (okay maybe not that last one, but as with a surprising number of shows I've been to a few overly enthusiastic souls jumped up on stage and ran around in gleeful delight, much to the entertainment of the boys in the band...). All of those things are excellent, all of those things are what I love about concerts, but Elliot Brood takes it a step further: they pass out pots and pans and wooden spoons. And you hit them. You hit them in time to the music. You hit them hard, and loud, and with great amounts of enthusiasm. And it is awesome.

Now I admit I can get a little overly enthusiastic, but give me a pan and a wooden spoon and Elliot Brood and you are putting your life in your hands. I almost hit my sister in the face, and my spoon flew out of my hand on at least two occasions. My once-flat pan turned into a now-rounded bowl. My sock-feet got full of splinters and my ears were ringing with wood-on-metal and banjos and drums and foot-petal bass... So. Much. Fun.

I love Elliot Brood's music, I love their enthusiasm, and their unconventional sexiness, and their ability to time-travel, but most of all I love how I feel when I listen to their music; like I'm a part of it. Like its all around me. Like I'm home.

Also like I'm five years old and playing drums on the patio furniture with a paddle I found in the shed. Rock on.