The Braniac Groove

I'm of two minds writing this piece. On one hand, previews like this are meant to encourage readers to check out whatever act is under discussion. But in the case of YACHT, I'm hesitant to recommend seeing the L.A./Portland band at its next Vancouver show.

I've seen YACHT twice now, and both cases the venue made all the difference. At the Electric Owl last fall in Vancouver, the group -- and particularly lead singer Claire L. Evans -- seemed hemmed in on the short stage. But at an outdoor Monday afternoon Bumbershoot show in Seattle last year, on a taller stage and with more elbow room, Evans and her bandmates, especially Evans' foil Jona Bechtolt, commanded an audience of hundreds.

The point being: if you go to see this band, you really want to see this band.

It's not exactly hip -- or is it? -- to mention "performance art" when discussing a group, but YACHT definitely has that aspect. They play arty dance-rock but in a self-aware way; the songs are catchy but the group makes sure you're getting the message, or at least a message. Before their Electric Owl show, if memory serves, a projected map of British Columbia charted the route they'd taken to get to the city. At the beginning of the video for "Psychic City (Voodoo City)", a title card reads: "Due to our strong personal convictions, we wish to stress that this film in no way endorses a belief in the occult."

"Psychic City" is a good example of a YACHT song. It's got a swaying groove, a singalong hook, nonsense words, but also symmetrical, almost geometric lyrics that hint that at least someone in the band has read some Italo Calvino or Jorge Luis Borges.

That someone would probably be Evans. Besides singing in YACHT, she keeps two blogs. For Universe she writes about science and technology; for Space Canon, she reviews classic (and not-so-classic) science fiction (her most recent entry is a review of Philip K. Dick's 1967 novel The Zap Gun).

Which maybe makes her, and by extension the band, sound like a bunch of groove-less brainiacs. Nothing could be further from the truth. In many ways, YACHT is a throwback to late '70s New York, when new bands would play galleries and toy with audience expectations. Not in sound, but attitude, YACHT reminds me of early Talking Heads -- not afraid to be smart, but able to connect with the hips and feet as well.

One of the chief pleasures of seeing the band play live is their engagement with the audience. Evans in particular is an interactive performer who actually seems to see the people she's playing to; her warm, accessible stage persona is in stark contrast to her androgynous, slightly alien look. Bechtolt, who started the band (Evans officially joined after three albums) is a cuddly yet intense presence; you can tell he takes the music just a little more seriously than his musical partner.

Actually, what I guess I'm saying is, yes, go see YACHT if you can. The Media Club, where the band is playing next Friday, Feb. 10, can be difficult to navigate when it's packed (as it might be for YACHT). On the other hand, YACHT is worth catching no matter how many people you have to squish through to get to a viewing position.