Embracing Pop: Throwback Suburbia

By Christian Lipski

Backspace, Portland OR
February 16, 2010

Although they are from my home base of Portland Oregon, I first heard about Throwback Suburbia from Indiana resident Gidget Bates, a DJ for Woody Radio. They’re her favorite modern band, and they’re neighbors of mine, so I went to see them at local venue Backspace.

A word about Backspace before the show starts: it’s one of the only all-ages spots that serves alcohol to grown-ups. There’s no separate “adults-only” area; they trust the kids and the hand-stamps. It’s not often that a music venue makes an impression on me, so I thought I’d mention it. And when I say “all-ages,” I mean it. The audience ranged from ten to 55, and everyone was cool. So if you’re in Portland, drop by Backspace for music, vegetarian food, LAN gaming, and art.

Throwback Suburbia were preceded by fellow Portlanders Black Mercies, who had a sound somewhere between old-fashioned New Wave and M83 (by which I mean modern New Wave). They kept the room’s interest with their urgent vocals, and were a welcome treat: an opening band that were not used as a punishment for showing up early.

As good as Black Mercies were, when Throwback Suburbia started playing, you recognized the gulf between bands and Bands: there’s a level of professionalism and ease with TS that you associate with major acts. Dressed smartly (I counted three ties, three vests, and one suit jacket), it’s as if they were the bands that influenced their sound. The only element that nagged me was the fact that Jimi Evans, the lead singer, was dressed in dark colors and tended to blend in with the background rather than standing out from it.

The set began with a fast beat from drummer Mike Collins, bringing to mind Tom Petty’s “American Girl,” and starting people dancing almost immediately. When I talk about the band’s music, I find myself bringing up other bands for comparison, as Throwback Suburbia wear their influences on their sleeves. They fully embrace pop music from all times, pulling in the pieces that thrill where necessary and blending them in with today’s sound.

If I were forced to recreate the band with other members, I’d have Butch Walker and Tal Bachman taking over frontman duties for a super-group comprised of The Raspberries and The Wonders. It’s a sound that loves itself, loves the pure fact of music, and celebrates it. I spoke with Mike after the show, and he admitted that they all enjoy playing covers from their power-pop and rock heroes. Mike’s the primary songwriter for the group, so you get a very good idea of his tastes from the band’s repertoire. As a drummer myself, I was mightily entertained by Mike’s stick-twirling showmanship. In fact, all the guys were very fun to watch on stage.

The set consisted mainly of songs from their full-length self-titled CD, and each one engaged the crowd, which had a higher female ratio than you’d find in a random crowd sample. They were particularly interested in having Mark Ricker, the keyboard player, remove various items of clothing throughout the night, from his shirt to his pants to his shoes. “Nothing doing,” he implied by ignoring these requests. His Hammond sounds added a fat ’60s/’70s flavor to the music, however, so all was forgiven.

I don’t mean to say that their songs are rehashes or purely retro in nature. Almost the opposite, in fact. Their music sounds like modern songwriters who have discovered anew the magic of the major/minor shift, the seventh chord. “You’ll Never Know” is a new ballad with no traces of older groups, but somehow it captures the freedom of being poised on the edge of life, the way that ’70s power-pop did. The band obviously loved it as much as the audience, because they went far beyond the set list, as if to remain in that moment as long as possible. Tom Petty even got his nod at the end of the show when they covered “I Need To Know.”