Tealights at The Goat Farm ATL, 11/06/09

 For a band with only six released recorded songs (7 if you count the no-longer-performed “Hello”), it's amazing how every time I see Atlanta-based electroclassipop group Tealights live they manage to alter the experience.  The 3 shy, understated kids flanked by instruments have grown into a powerful 4-person band capable of turning glee into a trembling sigh on a dime.  So when I say the donation-only, invitation-based performance on Tealights home turf-a hidden “goat farm”/farmhouse/living area hidden in open sight in Atlanta-completely and totally ruined the bar for live music forever (and ever, amen)-hopefully it comes across what a massive statement that is. First, the venue itself: imagine Nick Cave, or Fever Ray (or Nick Cave and Fever Ray?) designing the largest farmhouse available, filling it with a magic that’s palpable. That was where we were led, and where the three band bill  — Little Tybee, Trees On Fire and Tealights — took place.

The farmhouse, hollowed to the bone other than a stage setup backed with a large visusal project screen and various tongue-in-cheek accoutrements (skeletons hanging from the rafters, hay bales, etc) instantly brought all in my group to rapt, giddy glee-we were in the presence, we discerned quickly, of the single greatest live music venue in existence, ever.

(Little Tybee sound checking as we walk into the Farmhouse for the first time)

Now, musically: Little Tybee opened and set an upbeat yet ethereal and spacey vibe, while Trees On Fire were a bit jammy for my tastes. They gain points, though, for a spot-on cover of MGMT’s “Kids”.

Tealights?

Tealights brought chills. This time around, their live sound-brought out by the crowd, by the venue, by the obvious electricity in the night air-was a band heavy on whipcrack percussion, allowing everything else-synths, vocals, etc-to float in and out of the mix. Opening with “Clouds”, Tealights crafted a dreamy soundscape reminiscent of the last bit of Jimmy Eat World’s “Goodbye, Sky Harbor” (yes, really), backed by projections of carnivorous fish, that quickly escalated into the awesome “Passport” (have I yet mentioned this is my favorite song of theirs ever?). What amazed me,  though, was that at the night’s end when the full-band jam that ends “No Sound To Hear” kicked itself up a notch, the entire band locking in with one another in a way that radiated nothing short of intense musical joy. The snippets of old-skool jungle that pin “No Sound To Hear’ together rode underneath the flute perfectly, and as I looked around the farmhouse, the air cool and still outside, I saw nothing but rapt gazes and giant grins staring back at the stage. Tealights’ final song, the new “Recreational Knife Throwing” (with the stick-in-your-head-for-days chorus of “I want you to say/what you’ve been meaning to say”), has evolved even since they played the Tank in NYC in October-what was a rough sketch then has become a transcendent slice of joyously confessional electropop. I beg you, Tealights, get this version, the song as it is now, on tape (and then get it to me). That song, that space, those visuals-sea creatures in shades of color humanity could never hope to fabricate-it's the visual embodiment of what the Tealights sound is-brights and darks swirling into something that's immediately familiar and yet so new it's damn unfathomable. And that venue, essentially a haunted house of love with perfect acoustics-has spoiled me for live music forever.

With the Goat Farm show, it’s again proven-Tealights are one of the most forward-thinking bands right now, and, um, make no mistake here-they are creating what right now sounds like. So listen.

Goat Farm/Tealights Photos (courtesty Kristina Weise:)