MUSIC REVIEW: People in Planes, This Other Life

By Saby Reyes-Kulkarni on June 3, 2009

Remember going to concerts as a teenager? Even if the sound was terrible, there was something in the muddy, bass-heavy thrum of an overworked PA system that really moved you. Similarly, when Welsh quintet People In Planes played the Club at Water Street last Thursday night, the thick boom was enough to take a person back to that innocent time. And, strangely enough, the sound (no fault of the soundman on duty) actually enhanced the experience.

Purveyors of puffed-up, radio-friendly rock, People In Planes slyly demonstrated that it has a spark of originality. In fact, as drummer John Maloney made art out of straight, driving beats that sound pedestrian and lifeless when other drummers play them, the rest of the band subtly changed its game plan around him, as if it was plugging a different batch of influences into every tune. At one point, the Planes sounded like vintage 70's boogie-rock; at a different time it recalled classic Yes - all while maintaining the bright modern-rock sheen that defines its work.

And PIP's enthusiasm went a long way. Keyboardist Ian Russell, for example, spent the entire show hunched over the keys, his face invisible behind a blur of curls while he banged his head. For one intro, he used an organ sound that evoked the spirit Deep Purple badass John Lord. Meanwhile, lead guitarist Pete Roberts played a polka-dotted Flying V, from which he dutifully wrung the requisite squeals and spacey effects. Roberts also spent the whole night singing, and he sang one chorus in one continuous, breathy exhale, so it sounded like: "h'I am the last-uh man stadin' suh-vi-vuh" - a technique put to better use by the late Michael Hutchence. Still, it was apparent that frontman Gareth Jones was sincerely moved by the crowd's positive response, which further proved that corporate rock can have a heart.

As PIP wrapped up, Rochester quintet This Other Life was putting a majestic ending to its set at the Alexander Street location of Boulder Coffee. With its soaring harmonies and exceptionally tight command of rhythm and dynamics, the band sounded like a spirited, local answer to the Allman Brothers, only more compact and with three stupendously talented ladies on its front line. TOL's wise air makes its fiery passion all the more life-affirming and believable. Unsurprisingly, the band kept the audience enthralled with its steady, adult confidence, which is perhaps best exemplified by bassist Erika Vazquez. Vazquez walked all over the neck of her five-string, but never once compromised the songs. Much like someone who knows they can kick your ass, it was clear from 20 feet away that she had nothing to prove. Paradoxically, that only made it more comfortable to be near the band's power. Bravo.