Jam at the Vogue: Dizgo's Outer Space Tour Live
Tradition dictates that before any show at the Vogue Theater, I have at least one dart on the curb out front before doors open. Situated right between the corner of College Avenue and Broad Ripple Avenue, a bus stop, and the line to get inside, you’re guaranteed some pre-show entertainment if you wait outside the Vogue long enough. This evening, I only made it a few puffs in when two patrons, a middle-aged couple, came up to the exit door and began peering inside. The woman asked her man if they had started letting people in yet, and he recommended that they check the back door. The woman agreed, adding that they “are part of the band.” They went around back, and a moment later, I heard the banging of metal doors; they then appeared from the alley looking frustrated. They went up to the entry door now to look inside; a moment later, someone wearing a Dizgo ID placard came out, traded some niceties with them, and then brought them inside. Seems they were part of the band after all.
I was let in a few minutes later by the security squad. Inside, I got a double shot of rum to sip on and then set up near a rail in the back corner of the pit. The perfect spot where you have a clear view of the stage and the ideal lookout for people watching.
The audience began to trickle in as showtime neared. The pit filled with couples on first dates, groups of friends having a night out, and the occasional few of us who came stag. The spread-out clumps of people around me grooving to “Dirty Work” by Steely Dan and the low blue lights paired with the disco ball directly above were uncomfortably reminiscent of a scene I had been reading in Carrie before I left for the show.
This evening's opener was Jason Leech, a key player and producer from Louisville—that's “loo-a-vul” not “louie-vill”—Kentucky. Leech plays a three-tier keyboard set-up over beats and mixes.
Generally, I’m not one for electronic music; if I see an artist pull a laptop out on stage, I’ll put money down on their set being lame. If I had made that bet that night, I would have walked out of that venue a loser. The beats didn’t do much for me; they were a healthy combination of original work and EDM remixes of classic songs like “Eleanor Rigby.” Leech, however, is an incredible pianist who could captivate a crowd even without the beat drops and breakdowns.
Beyond the electronica, a Leech set is a dueling piano show with only one key-slinger. Like watching Lee Van Cleef have it out with his reflection, Leech makes Booker T. look like a dilettante.
After an intense hour-long set, Leech broke away from his keys for the first time since he came out to thank the crowd for coming out. He smiled, asked for someone to buy him a beer, and then jumped off stage, vanishing into the crowd. There was a brief intermission, no more than five minutes, then Dizgo came out.
Guitarist Andrew Pickel had a few brief words about their current tour, telling us about the new music they’ve been working on, and wasted little time getting into the first song. Not long into the opening number, “Undertow,” there was a pop like someone stepping on a balloon. It ripped through the crowd, hitting my eardrums like a fastball. I couldn’t place it, but something sounded muddled now; however, before I could root out the source, whatever I was hearing stopped. From that point on, the jam was immaculate; it flowed beautifully into “Fundamentals” and then closed up with a cover of The Smashing Pumpkins “Cherub Rock.”
The next jam ran the remainder of the first set, starting off with “Orbital”—a new song not releasing until February 28th—then into “Curio.” Another .38 going off right next to your ear, POP, not enough to cause ringing but startling just the same. This time, I traced the following dip in sound quality to Pickel. I could hear him playing, but only because I was about thirty feet away. His amplifier had blown out; he rocked so hard, it just couldn’t take it any longer. The screaming guitar riffs came back seconds later, this would happen several more times throughout the first set. Each time the pop hit, it would cause me to spill a little of my drink on the bowed wooden floor; the band, however, wouldn’t even flinch, let alone miss a beat. “Curio” turned into a “Paranoid” cover, which turned into the Tetris theme back into “Paranoid.”
The band took a break once they had wrapped up the jam, and the crowd dispersed with them, letting me pick a new spot in the pit. I moved to the center where I could mingle with the rest of the crowd. In front of me was a suspicious man in his late 30s, with a shaved bald head, a plain black raincoat, khaki pants, store-brand sneakers, and drinking a light beer. It was already painfully obvious what he was doing here, as it always is when you see an undercover officer at a show, but he blew his cover further by bending over, letting his jacket ride up, and flashing the handcuffs in his back pocket. I exchanged looks with some of the nearby audience members, a handful of whom then ran off to presumably lighten their load.
Dizgo came back out and fired right into “The Final Countdown” in honor of Super Bowl Sunday. One of those poetic life moments ensued during the song when the stage lights began flashing red and blue. A few rows up, someone decided this was the time to hit their pen, sending a cloud of skunk over the crowd. Sargent Stadanko took off like a bloodhound when he caught the scent, like my own episode of Cops.
From “The Final Countdown,” they moved into “Rainbow Lightning.” They jammed for a while, noodling away while the phalanx of rainbow lights behind them blasted the crowd, making the band a group of shadows grooving in the neon-lit smoke that filled the venue. The jam moved into “Crazy Frog,” by Axel F, then back into “Rainbow Lightning,” followed by “It’s Alright” and “Singularity.”
Finally, there was a second to breathe; Dizgo had been going from song to song without ever actually stopping for more than a second, almost like playing one continuous track. The break was no more than thirty seconds, but you could hear the collective gasp as the Vogue stopped dancing for a moment before the band played the only decent version of “Creep” I have ever heard.
I hold a certain contempt for Radiohead that most people save for the likes of Nickelback and Bon Jovi. I couldn’t say what exactly motivates my distaste for the group. I’m a massive fan of their contemporary bands. For some reason, Radiohead has always rubbed me the wrong way, too whiny for my liking, I suppose—which is ironic considering my admiration for certain pop-punk bands.
After “Creep,” they played “Outer Space”; when they finished the song, they thanked us for turning out. They left the stage, the majority of the crowd bolting with them. Those of us who stuck around for five minutes were treated to an encore. Key player Jake Evatt came back out first, sitting back down behind his rig and smiling into the mic, saying they were going to play us one more song.
The encore ended up being a 20-minute jam starting with “Jordans Jordans” and flowing into “Tongue Punch.” After they had finished up, they hung around for a minute, setting their instruments down and waving to those of us who remained. When drummer Justin Clark left the stage, I dashed, slipping out of the theater before the exit was clogged up with the rash of remaining concertgoers.
I slipped down the alleyway next to the Vogue, heading towards the parking lot out back. I stood waiting for my ride to swing by, and out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimpse of bassist Kevin Hinnefeld moving from the Vogue to the building next door past a gaggle of fans.
You can’t capture the magic of a jam band on an album, no matter how smooth your transitions are. You could take the exact setlist Dizgo played at the Vogue and listen to it on a playlist, but you would be losing out on the key ingredients that make jam concerts special. The noodling, the key changes, the way a song played live won’t ever sound exactly the same, and most importantly the crowd. The spontaneity of these kinds of shows electrifies the audience, making for a show that is unlike anything else you’ve ever seen.
Dizgo is in the first half of their Outer Space Tour. There are still plenty of shows across the country going on until late May. Take a minute to see if they’ll be passing near your hometown. If so, go catch them play. This isn’t a show any dedicated jam band fan can afford to miss.