Surfer Blood, Magic Stick, Detroit

In an era of swagger, sway, and shudder, Surfer Blood is out of touch. They are 20 somethings that look like high schoolers, no matter their ironic t-shirts, cheap plastic sunglasses, and half-hearted (even, perhaps, impossible to grow) mustaches. The band has obvious trepidations about whether or not they should be where they stand, performing in front of strangers in a strange city, casually glancing at one another for reassurance.

Okay, awkward, strange, young, forlorn? Yes. Fine. But, really, in all of their late night, performance anxiety blues, Surfer Blood hit every note. It is endearing to watch them struggle through the set, a kind of learn as you go along, never stop logic. Their front row is a group of young girls who mimic counter-culture, chatting and texting during the set, while carefully looking up at the group, eyeing them, searching for a response. The lead singer and guitarist, John Paul Pitts, warms up as he moves through the set, he jumps off bass drums, smiles and nods to his band mates, continually belting his lyrics whether or not they are in key (which, regularly they are).

Pitts may be the obvious energy, the type of potent symbol you place on a political banner to draw response, excitement, or anger, but his supporting cast (whether calm, cautious, scared, or head rockingly delirious) add to the cool and terrifying first-date like experience. Watching Surfer Blood is like being on a first date – and not only because crowds who flood heavily blog buzzed bands are generally tired, stale and nervous – because you don’t know what to expect, and it is hard to make an initial judgement. Emotions flutter around the chest, eyes wander to lapels and laps, in other words, the experience is a good kind of unusual that may lead to another feisty encounter.

Their set is subdued and cool, even though the keyboard/percussionist leaps and shakes his puffed, curly hair. They open with ‘Floating Vibes’ – which is reminiscent of their powerful, and perhaps, only reputable or reasonable single ‘Swim’ – lingering around the soft and sweet guitar line. As an opener this song lends to their uncultivated (but, a perhaps soon to be cultivated), insecure look. In one of their final songs, the second guitarist, Thomas Fekete, timid and embarrassed, solos with his teeth! His face is ice and fear throughout the whole show, he looks at his guitar, keeps his lips taught, rarely smiles, and moves infrequently.

What a wonderful thing. This is one of the many reasons why without swagger, without a White Stripes like madness to their live set, Surfer Blood excels and, does not exceed expectations, but lives up to the wondrous experience that is their debut album. Returning to the stage after a half-hearted, half-plaid encore plea, they reveal a new song, which they tease into with the beginning of Weezer’s ‘Undone (The Sweater Song)’. It is an exciting, self-conscious note of reference, a good funny joke, before an important encore. Their new song ‘I’m Not Ready’, is a nice hybrid of what they have created thus far, giving more emphasis to their intricate guitar lines climbing around their songs. It sends out a note of growth and expansion, a possibility of something more meaningful than first shows and first dates.