For Tim DeLaughter’s Polyphonic Spree, a church seemed an appropriate venue for the ensemble’s grandiose live show that was first hidden by a large white sheet in front of the stage as the group set up. Plumes from a fog machine sprang up from behind the partition, hazily filling the church’s large congregational. A few rainbow lights filtered through as the tech guys tested their light show. As the band began its cheerful first hymnal, DeLaughter began cutting out peepholes in the sheet, slowly exposing himself and the band before the rest of the sheet was let down, finally revealing the remainder of the ensemble: cello, violin, two electric guitars, drummer, percussionist, bassist, four backup singers, keyboards, trombone, trumpet and the obligatory harp.
DeLaughter controlled the entire room with his charged energy, making it difficult to evade comparisons to a prophet at the (literal) pulpit. Adding to the comparison was the obvious setting. The sober, all-ages church helped the crowd experience the performance on more honest terms, as if we were actually in church, listening to the preacher. But maybe church isn’t the best metaphor…cult, perhaps? When one sees the band dressed in flowing salmon robes, DeLaughter running from one end band member to another, whispering God-(and DeLaughter)-knows-what into their ears, it becomes a challenge to not assume an agenda, to not assume the fog machine filling the air is not actually laced with an intoxicating and hallucinogenic serum. The audience responded with nothing short of delighted enthusiasm and willingness to buy their way into the everlasting peace Spree promised. A man got up on stage, grinning broadly, turned to the frontman who returned an equally enthused smile and they embraced. The man waved to the crowd and returned back to the floor, ostensibly saved.
A bright white light was strategically placed behind DeLaughter, the central source of our emanating magic for the evening, backlighting him and creating a rainbow aura. The technicolor radiance and psychedelic light show swam through the foggy blur, accompanying the massive sound from the equally impressive ensemble. Unfortunately, the swirling sound did not translate as well as the visual spectacle. From multiple vantage points on the ground floor and above in the balcony, I was unable to get acceptable clarity. A resonating “ohm” reverberated throughout the church to which DeLaughter made a positive reaction, but to me resulted in a persistent muddiness. Perhaps the sound was better on stage utilizing the natural amphitheater to bolster the signal, but all I could experience was a wash of modulating frequencies covering me with a haze: a large blanketing chamber of sound. Nonetheless, the spectacle was probably the closest I will come to experiencing the power of a cult leader in my presence, and I appreciated the impressive workload it takes to pull off such an execution.
Local openers Burgess Meredith (yes, Rocky’s trainer Mickey) and Dallas popster Sarah Jaffe rounded out the all-Texas lineup. Check out photos from the night below.
All photos © Carlos J. Matos & Pop Press International; all right’s reserved. Click any image to open in slideshow viewer.