Words: Matt Powell

Tampa favorites Giddy-up, Helicopter! opened up a strong triple bill last night at O-town’s The Social.  Regrettably, my extended afternoon nap caused me to miss the first half of the set, so I was left wanting more.  But Conner and friends were as tight, expansive, and loud as ever, and the crowd was into it.  The songs I heard were mostly teases off their upcoming new record, due to drop in January.  I’ll be waiting.
   

Next up was Birmingham’s Wild Sweet Orange, Margot’s touring mates this time around.  They opened with a massive volley of drum, bass and guitar that took me by surprise.  For whatever reason, I expected a fairly mellow treatment from these guys, but they made it clear from the start that they came to rock out.  Frontman Preston Lovinggood (no, really) soldiered on through some annoying feedback issues at the start.  But by the second track, the sound guy had it together, and Preston was coming through crystal clear, and working the mic like a seasoned soul-rocker.  His voice has a touch of that indie/prog accent (a la the Decemberists’ Colin Meloy, but not nearly so annoying), but he always comes across as natural and honest, selling me on even the sappiest of lines.  All five members were clutch, but my notebook kept filling with compliments for the awesome Chip Kilpatrick on drums.  Lead guitarist Taylor Shaw certainly had his moments too.  All in all, it was a surprisingly forceful and soulful performance from a five-piece that you’re sure to here more about soon.  Their new record We Have Cause to be Uneasy is great, too.
   

The break before Margot & the Nuclear So & So’s was predictably lengthy.  After all, these indie kids from Indy tour with eight musicians, and probably 50 or more instruments.  Honestly, I kept thinking I had a solid count, and then someone would pull out a hidden trombone.  When they finally started, singer Richard Edwards eased us into it with a sparse arrangement of “Real Naked Girls,” while the rest of the band laid low.  They didn’t stay low for long.  By song’s end, the piano, bass-synth, and fiddle had joined the party, and for the second song, the less reserved “A Children’s Crusade on Acid,” all stops were pulled.
   

Everyone in this band is wonderful, but when you see them live, you can’t help but be captivated by Casey Tennis, Margot’s brilliant and eccentric alt-percussionist.  This time he had a sort-of “tree of noise,” bristling with metal, plastic, and wooden bits upon which he mercilessly beat.  Then there was the sheet-metal sandwich cymbal apparatus (there you go Casey, I’ve named it for you), the seemingly magical e-drum pad, and the massive bass drum, set at shoulder height and illuminated spookily from the rear.  Casey danced among this city of bombast, delivering a flood of percussion that was sometimes tender and tasteful, sometimes towering and dramatic, and always right on time.
   

Meanwhile, the ensemble kept building the level of excitement and emotion, and when they delivered the expectant crowd a few treats from their “old record” (2006’s brilliant The Dust of Retreat), the crowd dissolved into an ecstatic pool of hipster Jell-o.  But there were more highlights to come.  “Mariel’s Brazen Overture,” was a personal favorite; I loved the vocal give-and-take between Edwards and the lovely Emily Watkins (who mostly plays piano and adds harmony vox).  This song really is an overture, that shifts gears over and over to create a rich and captivating sonic narrative.  Then there was a moving rendition of “Broadripple is Burning,” that brought tears to more than a few eyes.  They ended big, with a series of raucous rockers and an explosive finale.
   

Margot isn’t always this good.  When I saw them a few months back at Crowbar, it seemed like Edwards and Co. were tired and annoyed, and the performance suffered.  But I’ll still see them each and every time I can, because when they are on, like they were at The Social, they are the embodiment of the pure, more-is-more joy of live music.  Want a taste?  My recommendation: grab the new vinyl-only record Animal and a pair of headphones.