The Rapture + the Presets // El Corazon // 13 November 2006

My friend and I get to El Corazon early on Monday for the Rapture (I’m paranoid about a sellout; he’s Dutch and punctual) and find the venue pretty empty and really really blue. I haven’t been there since the name changed and it looks like they had lots of leftover exterior paint. The open door, sparse crowd, and open wall make the coat check unnecessary as it’s freezing inside. An early arrival gives us time to hang out in the bar, trying to interpret the tarot cards painted on the table (is it significant that all of Mexico and Central America are highlighted on “El Mundo” card?), keep an eye on the developing crowd by way of the closed circuit projection on the wall, and marvel at how the bathrooms are the most awful we’ve ever encountered.

Eventually, the Presets take the stage and give the speaker system a workout. Joy Division inspired bass lines leave my whole body tingling and I worry about the state of my molecular arrangements after a few tracks. In front of us some kids seem to have really been practicing their aerobics routines. Among a half-filled room of all agers, a few throw themselves into full body contortions as the Sydney band assaults our eardrums. Legend has it that Julian Hamilton and Kim Moyes decided to start a band together based on shared fashion sense, but it’s hard to tell with the severe backlighting. Julian mentions that he finds the unconventional lighting (they can see us, but we really can’t see them) terrifying, and the icy temperatures inspire him to leave his jacket on throughout the performance. As the set goes on, the crowd warms up, the songs get longer and harder to distinguish from each other, and we sneak out early to get a head start on the massive queue for the lone bartender’s attention.

By the time that the Rapture have loaded up the stage with their gear, audience numbers have grown substantially and the venue is at a comfortable capacity. As much as I like the wide, shallow space (poles and all!), it’s best enjoyed in the absence of a sellout. The crowd is dense enough to move around and to bump into (or kiss, as laterrequested by lead singer Luke Jenner) your neighbor if you want to. Like the raising up of the faithful they’re named after, the band quickly jump starts the energy level in the room with a pretty even blend of the 2003 dancepunk classic Echoes and this autumn’s Pieces of the People We Love. Radio station sponsored balloons bounce above the crowd along with the odd Barbie doll and teddy bear [no idea, really].

You know you’re in for a good time when a band has dedicated personnel (Gabriel Andruzzi) for cowbell solos. That is, when he’s not tending to other instruments or participating in what seems to be an unstoppable resurgence of the saxophone in rock music. Every so often, Luke perches above the audience for guitar solos and is swarmed by outstretched hands. Everyone goes justifiably crazy when they make it to “House of Jealous Lovers” and the balance of body heat and the venue’s lack of climate control finally balance out to a comfortable temperature.

By this point, two strangers in our vicinity have found each other. Both had been working on their own wildly interpretive dance moves and when they meet in the bouncing crowd they take it to the next level: dips, collisions, tiger claws. The rest of the audience pales in comparison and after the show I notice them plotting their next steps to modern dance revolution.