Ian Ferguson San Francisco, CA
Let’s Stay Friends, the band Les Savy Fav’s 2007 release, reached 36 on Billboard’s Top Independent Albums chart. Which means that their music is good. However, it wasn’t so much their music onstage Sunday night as the antics of artistic frontman Tim Harrington.
As former students of Rhode Island School of Design, Les Savy Fav have kept their creative sides. Harrington appeared on stage with toilet paper wrapped mummy style around his face. “A bicycle accident” he claimed while opening a Corona — one of six brought on stage with an armful of fresh fruit. Partway through the first set he doused himself in water, disintegrating the TP to reveal his bald and red-bearded features.
The requisite moshpit for the really energetic and repressed clique of listeners reveled in the spray of beer he regularly whale-breached from his mouth. As amplified and unpredictable as the rock backing him, Harrington moved through the crowd with a long mic cable up to the The Mezzanine’s loft, then tried to slide down the stairs on two footrests before deciding on the handrail; duct taped a cute fan to himself onstage, spun her around, had another fan try to bite through the tape connecting them before borrowing a pocketknife from a third audience member to cut them loose, all while maintaining a stage presence that make it look a lot like a David Blaine trick; entertained a fifteen-minutes-of-fame fucktard fan who climbed on stage multiple times, busied himself with Harrington’s props, and occasionally screamed lyrics into the mic — Harrington called him the best guy there; chewed up a banana and fed it mamabird-style to a fan; did the same with a sock — he took it from a crowdsurfing fan, made a fingerpuppet with ripped holes for eyes, sang with it for awhile, rolled it up and put it in a fan’s mouth; took his shirt off and accepted a behind-the-back clandestine nipple rub from a fan; found a phone that fell out of a pocket of another crowd surfing audience member, called a number, rocked into it, put it most of the way into his mouth and then all of the way into the front of his pants. Crowdsurfing was so popular that at the end of the show, the bass player told people to come onstage to collect everything that was lost, “and please not steal anybody’s shit.”