A couple of weeks ago, I carefully went out on a Thursday evening (my, how life has changed), got a bit sloshed and saw Glass Candy, a Portland musical act featuring one Johnny Jewel on synths and bass. Jewel also happens to produce and play in another Portland group named Chromatics. I was to meet Adam Miller, singer/guitarist/songwriter for Chromatics, so that he could give me a CD, which is reviewed somewhere around here.
I had some idea who I was looking for, having seen Chromatics once about a year ago, and from pictures on the interweb but, couldn’t identify the man in the crowd. I had my suspicions about two people, but one looked too short and the other a bit goofy (well, at least his dance moves were goofy). Upon closer inspection, neither ended up being Mr. Miller, but both needed a bath. By the time Glass Candy began their set, I still hadn’t located him and was beginning to believe he wouldn’t show at all. Jilted by yet another rock star? Why me?
Chromatics have, over the past year or two, become something of an obsession of mine. They have a mystery, a groove, and an aesthetic to them I just find irresistible, and sometimes, only their music will scratch whatever itches. Loving them has lead me back to Johnny Jewel’s other production work, to Dark Day, to Italo Disco, Suicide and more. (The band Suicide. Listening to the Chromatics won’t make you want to die. Well, maybe “Baby” will.)
Ida No and Johnny Jewel played, Ida doing her slinky dance thing while cooing and shrieking, Johnny wearing a nice pair of slacks and a red silk shirt, halfway unbuttoned for that Italian feel. They were great, I danced, (which, if you know me, you know I’m white-white-white,) fun was had by all and Glass Candy sampled the Geto Boys. Oh, happiness.
After the show, I gave looking-for-Adam one more shot, and I soon spied him leaning against a wall near the bar, talking with someone but generally acting aloof. I wondered if he had even watched the show. He had on white pants and a black leather jacket—so rock ‘n’ roll, even in the hot club. I was a sweaty mess, but he seemed cool enough. What’s the point in being a rock star if you can’t pull off (on) a pair of white pants and leather? Most people look stupid in white pants, I have to say. I would look stupid in white pants. I guess it shows off your junk nicely, and isn’t that what it’s all about?
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