Frightened Rabbit Rocks Terminal 5

Scottish bands are subject to extensive comparisons in relation to one another, reasons for which become clear when you look at the music some of them have been making over the last decade. Aside from having brilliance in common, bands like Arab Strap, Belle & Sebastian and even The Twilight Sad have a habit of refusing to adhere to the conventions of what is essentially indie rock music – addressing frank and sometimes highly personal subject matter in the guise of their respective musical approaches. Selkirk’s own Frightened Rabbit are no exception. Since the release
of their oft overlooked 2006 and slightly more lo-fi debut Sing the Greys, they’ve been vaunted for an approach which is both thematically macabre yet beautifully affecting – and a live performance at the near-capacity Terminal 5 on Saturday night did little to dent this consensus.

Kicking off the set with ‘Things’ from their most recent record Winter of Mixed Drinks, it’s plain to see years on the road have helped them cultivate a near perfect performance dynamic. The crowd were instantly whipped into a wild fervor at the slightest gesture from point man Scott Hutchison and elevated by the steadfast drum beat of his percussionist brother Grant Hutchison. If there was anybody refusing to dance during the opening two songs, they’d certainly dropped that
pretension by the time the band launched into “Nothing Like You,” followed personal favorite foot-stomper “Old, Old Fashioned,” a cute ode to courtship executed brilliantly.

All of which of course is a preface to Scott’s libretto of personal shortcomings, breakups, even suicide delivered in an intonation that if mastered by the average man would draw the affections of any woman in the world in a single breath (is that just me?). But if his singing failed to impress, a mid-set anecdote about his failed attempt to re-ignite a relationship by following his ex to New York City and presenting her with a stuffed snake may well have done the trick. He went on to say that “I Feel Better” was written after said snake incident, clarifying that the sentiment implied in its title is a lie.

Switching effortlessly between tracks from their most recent record and 2008’s Midnight Organ Fight, the set progressed energetically. With each careful build to a noisy indie rock crescendo heard on “Fast Blood” and “Head Rolls Off,” the crowd renewed its captivation. As on most of the songs across their albums, songs were accompanied by some beautiful harmonizing on behalf of the rest of the band. It's unlikely Hutchison could ever be accused of hiding behind the proficiencies of his band members though, as he showed when they deserted the stage for him to perform the ultimate soundtrack to heartbreak in “Poke” – delivering his trademark poignancy despite some truly visceral lyricism.

In good humor yet somewhat pointlessly, Hutchison then welcomed Craig Finn of The Hold Steady to the stage to rattle out a messy cover of “Don’t Go Breakin’ My Heart” looking every bit the drunken history teacher clutching a frothing bottle of Corona. Furthermore, without any reference to Halloween it seemed the band would leave having ignored that a reasonably large section of the crowd had come to the show in costume. But after returning to the stage for an inevitable encore they invited the garbed up to take the stage and dance along with them to “The Twist.” I’m betting there wasn’t a solemn face in the house.

Frightened Rabbit have put the work in, and it's glaringly obvious when you go to see them play live. An hour and a half passes, and with each song comes the pressing familiarities of something that harkens to your own break ups or troublesome phases but it never serves as anything other than uplifting. They hover between the genuinely haunting and undeniably dance-inducing pop without ever being confusing. If you’ve followed this band or not, it’s nigh on impossible to avoid being dragged headlong into their transfixing performances and studio recordings alike – a plateau that sets Frightened Rabbit apart even from most of their esteemed Scottish contemporaries.