Iceage at Yellow Canary Dance Hall, 7/19/2011

Victor Gonzales

Iceage frontman Elias Rønnenfelt

​ Iceage, Weird Ladies, and Nihilism
Yellow Canary Dance Hall
Tuesday, July 19, 2011

Hipsters and their irony -- goddamn, it's cute. The place is called Yellow Canary Dance Hall, however, there weren't any birds, and only a handful of people dancing at last night's Iceage show.

The Danish foursome has generated mad indie buzz in recent months for their brash brand of hardcore post-punk. Pitchfork gave their debut LP, New Brigade, an incredibly generous 8.4, calling the album "refreshing and extraordinary."

Needless to say, we nearly jizzed our skinny jeans when we heard the group was stopping in Phoenix. Unfortunately, last night's set was anything but refreshing. In fact, it was disappointing.

Before I get Danish with it, let me say mad props to the dudes in Weird Ladies. They were the first of two opening acts last night, and absolutely rocked the shit out Yellow Canary without making a mockery of rock-and-fucking-roll.

They covered Wire's "Three Girl Rhumba," something I never thought I'd have the opportunity to write in a blog. Kudos, fellas.

After Weird Ladies' set, Nihilism took about 40-minutes to set up their gear which consisted of way too many pedals, nobs, and wires. Technical trouble plagued them from the minute they started setting up.

At 10 p.m., they finally managed to get things in line and started making noise. Nihilism's garage metal electro womp womp hybrid is a tough pill to swallow. Thankfully, they blew a fuse -- two, actually -- and cut their set short.

They have a bagpiper in the band, and he played "Amazing Grace."

Music critic tip: when I blow a fuse, I like to find out what caused the shortage, and unplug that electronic roadblock from the wall socket in an effort to avoid getting caught in the dark in the future. I suggest bands do the same with unnecessary effect pedals.

Victor Gonzalez

Iceage's Elias Rønnenfelt

​Forty-five minutes after Nihilism cleared their equipment, the four Danish teens Pitchfork sucked off in late June plugged in and did the complete opposite of what "refreshing and extraordinary" is supposed to sound like. Iceage made my ears bleed.

They were pitchy, dog, like Randy Jackson says. And by pitchy I mean inaudible. Just like on the album P-fork rated so highly, you can't make out what lead singer Elias Rønnenfelt's saying, and the dude's singing in English. Unlike P-fork's reviewer says, however, there is nothing "impressionistic" about it.

Their set lasted 15-minutes, and the only impression I got was that I'd been robbed $8 by a group of Danish hoodlums.

Critic's Notebook

The Crowd: Hipsters in jorts, TOMS and tank tops.

Overheard: Captain Obvious yelled, "I think they blew a fuse."

Random Notebook Dump: Spilled freeze-pop juice on my Chucks #ClumsyAlt

Set List: Good luck (see photo)

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