Concert Review: The Radio Dept. Brings Fun Relief Back To Society At Bowery Ballroom
I reviewed Radio Dept. Running Out of Love a few months back and mentioned that it was an album in protest and societal pushback to Sweden’s most recent politics. I know with the current state of America that we are not exactly assuming that Sweden is an epicenter of turmoil but the irony of humanity is not just that it repeats its mistakes/bad behavior across time but also across lands. I mention this because there concert at Bowery Ballroom surprised me in feeling more like a youth in a rave than a youth in revolt.
For those new to The Radio Dept. Running Out of Love is not a “swoony relationship” album but a indie-pop-philosophical analysis of society’s lack of love. I wonder if because I knew the meaning of their album that I felt the specs of rage that inspired the songs they played and are aptly titled, “Death To Fascism”, “Swedish Guns”, “Teach Me to Forget”, and “Occupied”. It was tracks such as these that most surprised me because lead singer Johan Duncanson is literally singing about going numb in response to society’s active ills, but, for some reason, in concert, this melancholia appears like building hope. Live, Duncanson, transitions from a recorded revolutionary to a magnifying musician that is rightfully more focused on bringing emotional positivity to the present moment compared to etching the dark human history he sings about. This does not make his words or vocal prowess any less nor does it mean they lose their undercurrent of confronting society’s current insanity. It means he transforms The Radio Dept’s naturally affronting/anarchic energy as one that believes resistance can come in sharing a good time rather than sulking in bad ones. The difference is intriguing for two reasons. First, it shows that the band has a duality that contrasts them from the one you hear on your headphones to the one your hear live, which is excellent and elaborates music can change in effect from iPod to actual audience. Second, it fascinates me because Running Out Love was one of my “moody” album picks when I wanted to feel a splash of self-pity/ judge the world for its cruel idiocy. Yet, The Radio Dept’s Bowery Ballroom show was anything but moody or self-pitying. Instead, it was a “chilled-out rave” of sorts amongst a community of like-minded youths frustrated with the times.
Live, the electronica of The Radio Dept’s album really comes to life, hence, my “rave’ reference. People were leaping into the air as if their red-bull vodkas had, literally, given them wings. Yet, I do not blame them. The danceable nature of The Radio Dept’s arrangements really shows in concert, but The Radio Dept are still dark-pop/ electronica which means they will still try to move your soul more than anything. Still, the band does a wonderful job in building a set and sonic frequency that is a color splash of vibrancy and youthful glows. The stage was perfect in giving a futuristic feel that made you think that The Radio Dept was playing their album from a neon tunnel/Swedish underground. They still manage to captivate the seedy/ synthetic grit of their album through light displays and the certain words Duncanson chooses to froth with his cool vocals. I know it may sound “cheap” to say someone has a “cool” voice, but cool is a term used for someone that is effortless and unbothered in their ease. For a man that sings about standing up to government bullying, of course, I noted the casualness of his stage presence compared to the activeness of his words.
Overall, I really enjoyed The Radio Dept’s concert. If their album taught me to look at and resist society’s lack of compassion, their concert showed me that resistance does mean “fighting” society as much as showing it how to love through good music and fun times. Moreover, in a land now known as Trump Country we need bands like, The Radio Dept, that make sure even in our joys that we never forget we must stand against those that cause our woes. For More Information on The Radio Dept and their current tour Click Here.