An appropriate name for a venue. A San Franciscan hole-in-the-wall expanded in shadow, my first concert in the Bay since March of 2020 welcomed me into a secret service. A sacred offering from two spiritually bonded bands from across world and water: Oaklandโ€™s own Fake Fruit opening for Londonโ€™s Dry Cleaning.ย 

Regarding our local faux fruit vendors, I was excited by Fake Fruitโ€™s latest single โ€œI Am The Carโ€ and was eager to see their live show. The bassistโ€™s last words before starting their set were โ€œTime to get post-punk.โ€ They definitely know their lane, with a precision and drive one wouldnโ€™t expect from a band who debuted this year. A no-nonsense start-up led to an instrumental freak out, and despite singer Hannah Dโ€™Amatoโ€™s modest admittance that she was just as excited as everyone to see Dry Cleaning, her yelp belted through the chapel like a punked-out preacherโ€™s, and I had to focus on the now rather than the later.ย 

The drummerโ€™s lost jewelry led to โ€œa fun game to play: find the earring with a lot of sentimental value to us!โ€ A frontwoman with pizazz, a flying fake nail couldnโ€™t stop her smirk; these were opportunities to interact with the audience. Itโ€™s a sweet sight to see local bands commanding a stage and enjoying their work again.ย 

With a couple of tunes venturing into No wave territory, especially the grinding โ€œDonโ€™t Put It On Me,โ€ the Oakland natives definitely earned their spot on the bill, and were ready to join the crowd to see their partners in abstracted, angular rock.

Florence Shaw seemed to be holding up the show. The last member of Dry Cleaning to arrive, only after soundcheck did she appear, in pajamas, tape recorder in hand. If she has that spark Ms. Dโ€™Amato has, she mutes it for contrast against the raucous performances of guitarist Tom Dowse and bassist Lewis Maynard.ย 

Whereas Fake Fruitโ€™s demeanor reminded me of the best backyard bands Iโ€™ve seen in Los Angeles, Dry Cleaning definitely seemed foreign, but this might be because of my Californian background. Both definitely fit the reemerging idea of post-punk, but it is interesting how, while being peers, both sides of the Atlantic reflected their separate historical interpretations. Fake Fruitโ€™s edges indexed Talking Heads and other circa โ€˜77 CBGB performers while Dry Cleaningโ€™s heavy basslines and minimalist approach definitely recalls the machinery of Joy Division. Shaw must know this, and her stage presence was such that the audience cheered when she introduced a shaker during a brisk live rendition of the song that introduced them to me, โ€œStrong Feelings.โ€ All of a sudden the shadows and red tones alleviated, a disco ball spun, and the crowd danced to what I had spent the back half of lockdown jamming to alone.ย 

Seeing a crowd move to โ€œViking Hairโ€ was surreal. Shawโ€™s shift from her usual spoken word to sung vocals did not change her face. Besides a characteristic side-stare with a widening of her eyes from time to time, her mask was maintained until the song’s end. An inquiry about llama plushie availability or the hours-long contemplation of whether or not to eat a hot dog was brought up with the same weight as meditations on passion and frustration. Only in between songs were there deadpan responses with a smile from the bed-ready lead singer. The only kink in Shawโ€™s armor was revealed when the crowd shouted to โ€œturn up the mic.โ€ As someone who knows most of the words to their songs, I hadnโ€™t noticed that if you were hearing these for the first time, Maynardโ€™s bass playing was definitely overpowering Shawโ€™s vocals. An adjustment allowed the audience to hear more than the โ€œbrrh brrh… hello?โ€ of โ€œConversation.โ€

โ€œMore Big Birdsโ€ is a dark horse on Dry Cleaningโ€™s debut album, New Long Leg (2021). Attracted by โ€œStrong Feelings,โ€ I immediately gravitated towards the first six songs, and while I eventually did start listening to โ€œJohn Wickโ€ and the other tracks on the recordโ€™s side B, Track 8 is by far my favorite. The recordโ€™s calmest composition, stuttering drums fake you out, and the synth soars, but from a distance. It reminds me of an actual big bird, or a plane, tiny but roaring far above the world. The Beatlesโ€™ lone officially released instrumental, โ€œFlying,โ€ uses a similar tone over footage cut from Stanley Kubrickโ€™s Dr. Strangelove (1964), and I wonder if this is a reference or simply ambient influence. The Chapelโ€™s live version roared harder, possibly the nightโ€™s best indicator of the power of Dry Cleaningโ€™s driving live machine. The improvised breakdown at the end may have been the most impressive feat. Knowing that the musicians, while masterful in their playing, have definitely played these songs a lot in the past year, deviating from the recorded versions was much appreciated. Saving lead single โ€œScratchcard Lanyardโ€ for the closer, the show ended with a satisfying, decisive strike.

I may have been hoping for โ€œTony Speaksโ€ to pop up, but this adventure into post-punkโ€™s present is enough to reassure anyone whoโ€™s hoping for rock acts to look follow, here or abroad. Two more big birds. How I love to watch them fly.

Article and photos by Stanley Quiros

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.