Mew

My mind turned to theosis at one point during the show.  How is that for a pop concert?  The reaching, the yearning, the potential--five human beings on stage exploring possibilities through sound and movement, engaged in a communal and hopeful artistry that was deeply moving--somehow all of it left me thinking about our eternal destinies.  Jonas Bjerre's impossible falsetto is difficult to describe without using words like heavenly, of course, and it will pierce your heart and turn your cynicism to musical mush.

Rip called Mew one of the five best live shows he has seen.  Rizzo brought up Van Gogh and the under appreciation of artists who do not swim with the current.  The D Man echoed their sentiments, thrilled to have seen such an epic show with about 300 other people.  It was the Danish band's first ever appearance in Salt Lake City, and they all seemed genuinely pleased with the raucous reception.  That said, it is still perplexing to see musicians that accomplished in such an intimate setting.

Mew once referred to themselves as "the world's only indie stadium band."  The show on Friday night proved as much.  They sounded HUGE.  Soaring.  Beautiful.  While Mew have certainly played massive venues in Europe, headlining the Roskilde Festival twice for example, the dream-pop heroes are often relegated to clubs and theaters in the United States.  The result is like seeing U2 in a small venue--it feels both incongruent and amazing.

The band opened with a ripping version of "Witness" from their new album + -.  Then "Special" transitioned into "The Zookeeper's Boy," easily the best falsetto rock song of all time.  "Introducing Palace Players" was potent, as any longtime fan would expect, and "Sometimes Life Isn't Easy" was brilliant, long one of The D Man's favorite deep cuts.  New singles "Satellites" and "Water Slides" were also superb.

Whimsical and wholly original, Mew makes records that defy explanation but hit the pleasure button track after track.  They curb prog-rock's pretensions with gorgeous melodies and an earnestness that makes them the uncoolest cool band on the planet.  They may never play Giants Stadium, but one thing is certain: it would be bigger (and better) than watching an aging Mick Jagger strut around.