Never could place Sunset Rubdown’s sound in the scheme of things, and it’s never seemed to matter—as a noisy translation of Spencer Krug’s uncensored inner monologue, it sounds just fine.

Tonight in Los Angeles, “The Taming of the Hands That Came Back to Life” pounded along with two drummers timing a tribal beat to Krug’s invented-or-not dialogue: “She said ‘My sails are flapping in the wind;’ I said ‘Can I use that in a song?’” goes the most quotable line. The honesty of Krug’s voice gives such could-be corny moments their unusual gravity.

It might also do with Krug’s appearance. Tastefully dressed and not looking unlike a younger John Mayer (seriously), he stands
perpendicular to the crowd and plays a Yamaha keyboard with a force usually associated with grand pianos. As much fun as a Sunset Rubdown show would be with a full-sounding grand, it would rob the band of the slapdash charm that unites these crazy songs.

The band opened with the two best songs off 2006’s Shut Up I Am Dreaming, the epic “Shut Up I Am Dreaming of Places Where Lovers Have Wings” and the stunning “Us Ones In Between.” That about did it for the old stuff, as the band moved into a suite of the recently-released Random Spirit Lover‘s finest tracks and one lovely new song.

But the magic of Sunset Rubdown comes, as it usually does, in so many of the band’s contradictions. If he’s not careful, Krug’s sheepish demeanor, button-down shirts, and fearsome keyboard skills might turn him into an idol—more than a handful of women at this show loudly voiced their attraction—but they’re so at odds with the band’s approach to music, which always seemed vaguely in tune with 70s porn. It’s almost certainly just the name, but the ramshackle compositions hang together with the same odd comfort of amateur actors in a wood-paneled room on 16mm.

On Random Spirit Lover‘s standout “For the Pier (and Dead
Shimmering),” a tiny gypsy lamp on Krug’s Yamaha bounced so much I figured he’d super glued it to the keyboard. It became the locus of attention, bobbling and toppling uneasily like one of those dancing Christmas trees. That’s certainly a strained metaphor, but it still fits.

Sunset Rubdown
Sunset Rubdown Official Site
Jagjaguwar Records