9/26/08 Walter Sickert & THe ARmy of BRoken TOys CD Release Party
with: Vermillion Lies and Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band
Review by magusdave
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What a show!
As we walked up the sidewalk toward the Lily Pad in Cambridge, it was clear this would be no ordinary evening. Outside, a small clump of performers smoked cigarettes, two balanced on stilts (one young woman, dressed in full burlesque attire inspired awe: the phrase "her legs went on forever" rang true in this case), a fire spinner whipped about fans with red feathers in lieu of flame, and a gentleman who looked as if he had stepped out of Magritte's "The Son of Man" nodded as we climbed the steps to the performance hall.
Which makes it sound larger than it was. The Lily Pad is a small establishment, intimate. Seating for 60 or so folks filled the room, with the ticket and merchandise tables stuffed into the corner by the front windows. Small enough to feel less like a club and more like a party with friends. Perfect atmosphere to celebrate Walter and Co.'s release.
We walked into a humid haze and the blare of saxophones and trumpets as Emperor Norton's Stationary Marching Band filled the space with liquid brass. A slender man in dreadlocks struggled to free himself from a straitjacket while a pirate and his wench alternated between cackles and mock fear.
The band performed a few more songs, at points accompanying a contortionist and a chase involving a flapper with a stolen treasure map and the above mentioned pirates. Their set concluded with Walter Sickert joining them on stage for a rousing song about hell bound souls and biblical truth - the entire time tearing pages from the good book. Brilliant.
Sometime during their set, I found a baby doll's dismembered arm. I kept it as a souvenir. For cab and food money, the aforementioned straitjacket man requested folks affix money to his body with a staple gun. I saw a few ones and at least one twenty dollar bill attached to his arms and shoulders.
Oldest Song noted that Walter Sickert was "a Beard Golem" - as accurate a description as I have ever heard. See him in real life - you would agree.
Walter and the Army of Broken Toys slipped onto the stage like serpents. The floor in front of the audience slowly filled with men and women dressed in plush animal masks - rabbits, a dog, a lion. Stuffed childhood friends from your toy chest. And then "No Room" swelled into the space like warm water - rich chords from Walter at the piano, accents from Edrie and her toy accordion as she wandered the audience. Intense. Beautiful.
Mid-way through their set, they tossed baubles to the audience - for enhancement and participation. From that point on, the music was punctuated by blasts from plastic horns, single-note harmonicas, toy drums - and bubbles floated through the air. I received a tiny plastic sea lion. No matter my ministrations, it never made a sound.
They ripped through the entirety of the "Casualty Menagerie" EP and left us breathless. As they exited the stage, they grinned.
We were treated to burlesque. And poetry.
Then Vermillion Lies took the stage. Real life sisters, Zoe and Kim Boekbinder, I kept wondering if they were twins, despite their obvious differences. One sported a new flapper style haircut, while the other wore long hair, a circus top hat, and a painted on handlebar mustache. They shared one brain.
With shouts from the audience of "What's in the box?!", they would pull out whatever object would be used for narrative and musical purposes from a large trunk balanced on a stool. A toolbox, a typewriter, a piece of a BBQ grill, a marionette.
Highlight of the show: the song about dissecting their grandfather after death - and keeping the parts most important to them. His liver. His heart.
Last night's show was amazing - Support the surreal. Buy Walter and Co.'s new CD.
